


Transition

by Blad3Zer0, EmeraldReporter



Series: Transcendence [1]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Halo, Marathon (Computer Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Original Character(s), Slash, This Will Not Be The Marathon You Know, Xeno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2017-12-10 09:47:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blad3Zer0/pseuds/Blad3Zer0, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldReporter/pseuds/EmeraldReporter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never had the Cylons truly been challenged after the first rebellion. Yet when they discover a ship from the Thirteenth Tribe, they unwittingly step in the midst of a galactic war, with only a single, unlikely human to guide them safely through this Great Journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

* * *

 _For a near seventy-six hours, the Marathon-class Cruiser_ Bolt of Zephyr _drifted aimlessly. Its crew was slain, save one man, gripping onto the edge of consciousness as he lay on the bridge with the fallen crew. The ship's sensors detected an unknown contact, Corvette sized..._

A Heavy Raider recently launched from the Baseship made soft seal with one of the Cruiser's airlocks and dispatched the Cylon group within.

As they explored the derelict, they frequently paused to note the peculiar design and markings of the ship, as none of it was familiar to them.

A Six and an Eight made their way through the corridors, flashlights in hand, finally reaching what looked to be the mess hall, with spent clips, shells, blood and dozens of bodies littering the area.

As they analyzed the bodies, they took note of the insignias and uniforms they wore, which were as equally mystifying as the ship.

"Some of these people weren't shot..." the Eight said, as she found two tiny puncture marks on the neck of one of the victims, and the same wounds on another. "...but how could someone have gotten close enough to stab them?" she murmured.

"Dog tags," the Six said as she found said items in the possession of a dead female marine, who from what the Six saw, looked to be in her late twenties. "S. Dante," she read.

"All of these others have them too," the Eight said. "This is a military ship."

"From where?" The Six wondered. Before the Eight could comment, a soft bang was heard from one of the exits.

"Did you hear that?" said the Six. The Eight nodded.

They followed the sound through the exit, noting the arrow marking the path to the bridge. A second bang confirmed the location of its source.

When they entered the bridge, with weapons drawn, they found the remnants of a gunfight. Numerous bullet holes were spotted, along with blood sliding down to the floor. The lighting was considerably low.

The Eight took note of some of the bodies, particularly the ones who suffered the same wounds as a number of the Marines in the mess hall.

As the Six explored the bridge, she found a body next to a rather large view screen, which lit the surrounding space in red, projecting the words "Alert Alpha."

"Looks like the commander," the Six guessed from the pips he wore.

"More spent shells, the clips in these guns are missing some bullets," the Eight observed. "It...seems as though they killed each other."

"A mutiny..." the Six commented as she looked over the view screen and the rather complex control panel that held it.

When she heard a faint knock from behind her, she turned to find another crew member near the commander's body, lying against the wall. She checked the body, and found a pulse.

"This one's alive!" She said.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the survivor was brought aboard a Basestar, given a quarantine shower and afterwards examined by the Number Four, Dr. Simon O'Neill. An IV tube linked his arm to a reserve of basic nutrients, while another machine monitored his pulse, blood pressure and brain activity.

The Number Six known as Natalie Faust stood near the bedside, looking over her first human subject since the Holocaust. By majority rule, she was assigned the task of extracting the location and affiliation of the vessel he was stationed aboard, as some of the Cylons already suspected that it may not have been of Colonial origin.

The human looked rather young, and couldn't have been older than nineteen or twenty. He had dark brown hair, and looked rather lean, likely the result of malnourishment during his stay aboard the mysterious warship.

As she considered what kind of rank and position the human could possibly hold, she began to wonder if this one would be of any use to the Cylons.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the interest of (hopefully) expanding the audience for this work in progress, it has been copy pasted from Fanfiction.net onto here. We hope you'll enjoy it.


	2. Lost and Found

Lost and Found...Actually, still lost..

* * *

The survivor awoke upon a bed to find he was no longer aboard the _Bolt of Zephyr_. In fact, he wasn't quite sure where he was. Gathering his bearings, he could assert that he had been cleansed of his former state of yuckiness, if he were to be completely honest, and somewhat embarrassed with himself at the thought. Adding to his state of abashment, he subsequently noted that he was nearly nude, were it not for the tame White briefs that adorned him.

From the looks of his accommodations, this room gave him the impression that the ship could have been a prison barge. While certainly appeasing in some aspects, it definitely looked as though he were in a house cell.

Being as young as he was, he thought he might able to play the clueless act with whoever "rescued" him. Maybe... he _was_ getting too old for it by now...

His suspicions of his arrest were supported by the fact that a tall robot of humanoid figure stood guard at his only exit, though it crossed off one of the names on the list of potential factions.

It could have been the Covenant, though this would be the first time he'd ever come across this class of ship, as well as this kind of machine...

He ran a hand through his hair. Reach wasn't that long ago, and yet to him it felt like yesterday.

He was grateful to find that there was a rack on the wall to his right, with simple garments hanging. Not wasting a moment, he quickly put them on, and to his mild surprise they fit rather nicely.

_Well, enough dawdling,_ he thought. _Might as well consider some options._

The first tested option was the direct approach, foolish as it was. He decided to try walking his way out when the guard took a step in his direction and made a show of the bladed appendages.

"Okay then," he said as he took the hint and quickly returned to the bed. Someone clearly didn't want him to leave. Even if he could get past the machine, there was no guarantee that there weren't others...

If it wasn't the UNSC who picked him up, then he could only hope he was far from that ship at this point. He already went through enough with all that happened at Halo, the last thing he needed was to have a search party sent to find another search party.

As it turned out, he didn't figure out much of a second option, other than to wait and see if an opportunity presented itself.

* * *

Meanwhile, in another area, a Number Four was observing the prisoner through the Hybrid's surveillance, taking note of his actions since regaining consciousness. Aside from his attempt to walk out, he did not seem to show too much concern about his predicament.

Several Fives were analyzing various gear recovered from the derelict, the majority of which were weapons that may have been issued to the numerous soldiers. From what they had learned already, this faction had considerable firepower.

Firepower which easily rivaled that of the Colonial fleet, or even their now defunct planetary defenses.

Two of the Fives were extracting and examining devices from some helmets recovered from the corpses, while the rest but one worked on the body armor.

The remaining Five assisted the Four with the weapons testing, and was in the middle of dismantling a rifle when a Six in a lab coat walked into the room and approached the now undistracted Four.

"I just returned from a pointless venture through that ship's computer systems." she said.

"Pointless?" the Four inquired.

"There's hardly anything we can access," she explained. "If it's not corrupted, it is _heavily_ encrypted. At best we were able to access some of the previous coordinates the ship set a course to, and restore primary power systems. The hybrid may be able to get through some of these walls, but this is security that is built to last."

"In our eyes, perhaps," the Four reminded her. "For every barrier built, there is a tool that can penetrate it."

"I can only ponder as to why one would need such sophisticated barriers in the first place," the Six said.

* * *

A full survey of the survivor's new residence revealed that whoever was hosting him didn't care to bring in anything from his quarters aboard the _Zephyr_. It would have been nice if he had a datapad right now, anything to distract him from his own pondering of recent events, not to mention the annoying droning of the robot and whatever that red panel on the wall was.

Whatever and wherever this vessel was, the survivor determined, he could not stay for very long. His recently acquired ally would be counting on his part in the plan, and if he was not successful, then any additional reinforcements would be of little use.

The sound of footsteps approaching brought him out of his meandering, and he sat back on the bed, awaiting who he supposed was hosting him.

A moment later he met the hostess in question, in the form of a tall, honey-blonde haired woman whose sense of fashion almost gave Kyle the impression that the ship he was on was some sort of civilian transport. Almost.

What the survivor noticed moments later was that mysterious, study look on her face. She looked at the man as though she were looking at a human being for the first time. He was not so sure he liked that look...

Neither of them spoke for that moment, but eventually the woman broke the silence.

"Are you alive?" she frankly inquired.

He was grateful for the lack of a facial reaction to describe his confusion to the question. Are you alive? What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean?

_Defuse the situation_ , he thought.

"Well, I'll be honest with you," he answered. "I'm not entirely sure now."

He was worried for a moment that she might have missed the joke, but that fear was laid to rest when she broke with a sudden smile.

"I've heard that one many times," she said. "Humor aside, are you alright?"

"I suppose so," he answered. "Though I am a bit curious as to where I am and how I got here."

In what lasted about two seconds, the Number Six wondered how much she could tell him. Considering this man was the only surviving crew member of his ship, he could hardly hope to resist the Cylons or cause any significant damage to the fleet. Knowing that he was aboard a "military" vessel would not be too great a risk.

She had to admit though, this one looked rather young, almost too young for service.

"I was hoping that we could both find the answer to the latter question," she said. "Right now, you're aboard our ship, we're currently on a Deep Space reconnaissance mission, strict communication blackout for the time being."

"You _are_ military," he stated. "Could have fooled me with your rather interesting uniform.

"My current duty shift does not require a uniform," Natalie replied, and quickly changed the subject. "We found you unconscious, aboard the Bridge of another ship, called the...bolt.."

" _Bolt of Zephyr_ ," the man finished. "Yes, I tried to pull some last-ditch efforts to get the ship back on course after someone altered it."

"How were _you_ granted access to the Bridge of a military ship in the first place?" Natalie inquired.

"It's a long, but rather simple story." he said. "Guy meets reality, soon after, guy learns that his planet is about to be destroyed. Guy sneaks aboard a war vessel that flees the planet and ends up in unexplored space. Guy jumps from ship to ship and flees from rather hostile territory, only to be picked up by another ship, the _Bolt of Zephyr_ , guy mingles with the crew, but then-"

"The crew of the Zephyr dies and Guy is found by us," Natalie finished.

"Bingo," he confirmed.

"Might I inquire as to the name of Guy?" the Six asked.

The man smiled. "Kyle Steiner. And you are?"

"Natalie Faust," the Six answered.

"A pleasure," said Kyle.

"Could you please give a more _detailed_ account," Natalie asked, raising her posture after noting hesitance. "For the higher-ups?"

"I only know what I heard and saw," Kyle warned.

"That's alright," Natalie said, initiating use of a human recording device "Just start from the beginning."

"Well, I was picked up by the _Zephyr_ about two weeks ago," Kyle started. "The ship had been involved in testing some experimental technology, when the technology in question veered them way off course. It just so happened to be my lucky day when on their way back they detected my ship, which let me tell you, was not fit for the kind of voyage I was on at that time. Anyways, they took me in, I got acquainted with the crew. Just as we started figuring out where we were, people started to die one by one, from various causes.

The only thing we could determine was that there was a saboteur aboard. We hoped to survive long enough to make it back home, but that was a lost cause once entire groups were murdered. The Captain was able to narrow down the potential line of suspects once it was clear that the intruder had access to environmental controls, though that didn't help much when apparently the intruder went a number of steps ahead and somehow locked out his own security clearance. Then..."

The Six could tell that he was trying to say more, but it seemed that he was losing the will to form any more words.

"You've actually been doing a good job so far," Natalie noted. "We could continue the rest another time, if you'd prefer."

"Please," Kyle admitted. "I'm already worn out just thinking about it."

"I'll leave you be then. Can I get you anything?"

"Just-" Kyle, in abeyance, finally replied. "I would be glad with a glass of cold water. Although, I might be asleep by the time you get back."

"Not to worry," Natalie said. "For the time being, consider yourself under our protection."

_After all,_ she said quietly, after leaving the room. _You're not going anywhere for a long while._

* * *

An hour later, Natalie concluded her report on the survivor, and the meeting had been adjourned.

"He started out with more than what I expected," Natalie told D'Anna. "If he continues at this rate, we'll have all the information we need in a day or two."

"The survivor's information may no longer be relevant," the Three told her.

"What do you mean?" Natalie inquired.

"We think we've learned why the computer security is so heavy," D'Anna answered.

"You broke the encryptions?" Natalie guessed.

"No," D'Anna corrected. "However, we may have learned what is being protected. The Six and Four assigned to analyze the data we have gained access to made reference to a UNSC and a UESC. The UESC, it would seem, stands for 'United Earth Space Corps'"

Natalie was flabbergasted. "United..."

"United Earth Space Corps." The Three repeated. "It is possible that this vessel belongs to the Thirteenth tribe."


	3. I Should've Stayed Home

Should've Stayed Home...

When Natalie returned to Kyle's quarters, she found that, true to his word, he had fallen right back to sleep. Deciding there was no need to wake him at that moment, she left the glass of water and a couple of items on the nightstand.

Before exiting the room, she turned back, her gaze set on the young mans now obvious, perturbed face. For a moment he jolted, and it became clear he was having a nightmare.

His very presence made her wary, more so than her sisters. The arrival of the derelict and a single human from the thirteenth tribe was completely unexpected. She doubted that even the Hybrid knew, though if so, there was no intelligible warning of it.

The possibility that there was a presence invisible to their sight was alarming, and only made Natalie further contemplate the unknown.

She managed to snap out of her reverie, briefly wondering how long she had been watching him. His face seemed more relaxed now. Deciding there was nothing left to do, the Six went on her way.

* * *

When Kyle awoke, he found not only the glass of water he asked for earlier, but his watch and personal data pad from the _Zephyr_. His rescuers must have found his quarters.

One of the first things he noticed afterwards was how dry his mouth was. He gratefully took a sip of water before grabbing the pad and switching it on.

He couldn't help but chuckle at how much data was stored in the device, despite the _Zephyr_ crew's removal of anything sensitive before he acquired it. In fact, as he recalled, he had been given this device to record his experiences since leaving Reach, perhaps to see if they could learn anything useful.

He was getting impatient from searching through the long list of files, and initiated a voice command program.

"Sort by category, profile. Date, October 3rd 2552, containing anything with the words _physical_ or _Bolt of Zephyr._ "

The program responded with a few beeps before automatically redirecting the view to the file Kyle feared had been logged: The results of his physical aboard the _Zephyr_.

Kyle breathed a heavy sigh before rising from the bed and pacing around it, wondering whether or not he ought to delete it. If his rescuers found out...

He relaxed, when he realized that if these Deep Space whoevers were willing to give this to him, it was likely that they already examined its contents and either didn't find it or didn't care, or merely underestimated its significance.

If only he'd have as much luck with the UNSC; if they were to find out, ONI would dissect his every atom. It would not surprise him if they purposefully made it as painful as possible...

_One step at a time,_ Kyle thought, as he deactivated the pad and placed it on the nightstand. Whatever the Flood did to him, or failed to, he'd contemplate later. If he was going to get out of here and aid his ally, he'd need to know more about what and who he was dealing with.

"You're awake."

Kyle turned to see that his charming, civilian-esque mediator had returned, along with a stern, professional looking man accompanying her. From the attire, he clearly looked like a nurse or a doctor, which could only mean-

"Yes," Kyle answered. "I feel much better already. I guess I needed the rest."

"No doubt." Natalie said, and gestured towards the man. "This is Dr. Simon O'Neill, he's going to do a few tests."

"Tests?" Kyle repeated, nervously.

"After viewing the medical log on that device," Dr. O'Neill explained. "We didn't want to risk having contracted anything from you, or having put you at risk-"

"This is an examination," Kyle verified. "So why aren't I at sickbay then?"

"Not necessary," was the only answer Simon gave. "You'd be notified otherwise."

"Great," Steiner muttered. This guy was an _awesome_ conversationalist.

"Give me one of your arms," the Doctor instructed. Kyle held out his left arm, which the man took and then used his free hand to grab something from a small box in the trench coat pocket.

"This may sting," the man warned as he quickly assembled a syringe and proceeded to extract blood. Kyle, however, did not react to the pain. It was such a minor feeling compared to what he endured at Halo.

"Procedure or not," Kyle said. "Unless my eyes have gotten any greener, there's nothing really significant your examinations will reveal."

"Your eyes appear quite fine," Simon answered.

Kyle gave the doctor a condescending stare. "I see you possess as much of a sense of humor as you do a bedside manner, though, I suppose that's to be expected on _any_ military vessel. At any rate, of course they would appear fine at first glance."

"Are they damaged?" Natalie asked.

"Well, no..." Kyle answered sheepishly. "...but they're not the same. I only noticed it myself when I was aboard the Zephyr, and that was merely by happenstance. If you look closely enough into them you may be able to see as well..."

Natalie hesitated a moment before getting _very_ close to Kyle's face, and sure enough there was something odd about Kyle's irises. Although barely noticeable, it looked as though there was some sort of green fluid moving around in them.

"What is that?" she thought out loud.

"I honestly don't know for sure," Kyle answered. "But I think I know what caused it. During my travels I suffered what could have been a life-threatening injury."

"What kind of injury?" Natalie inquired.

"An infection of some sort, unlike any we've ever faced," Kyle elaborated. "We encountered a new life form, possibly for the first time, and considering its targets, it was definitely not Covenant. From what we could gather, it was a parasitic entity."

"Parasitic." Natalie repeated. "Is it contagious?"

"I doubt it, at least not from me. Had the infection progressed normally, it would be extremely contagious."

"There was no previous mention of a parasitic lifeform in any medical files recovered from the _Bolt of Zephyr_ ," Simon stated.

"Check again," Kyle retorted. "I mentioned it, discreetly, to both the Captain and the CMO. I doubt they'd leave that out of logs, even personal entries. That's why they found that anomalous material in my blood, anyway, and you'll no doubt find the same thing."

As soon as Kyle finished his sentence he noticed the man seemed to be packing up what little gear he brought. "We are finished," the doctor confirmed. "For the moment."

"No offense, Ms. Faust," Kyle said. "But is there any chance that next time you could bring a doctor a bit more sociable?"

Natalie turned to give Simon a "you had it coming" look before answering Kyle. "I'll get back to you on that."

And with that, they departed.

"We also downloaded what information we could from various computers aboard the Zephyr, maybe that includes information about alien species the Thirteenth tribe has encountered," Natalie surmised. "Let's see what we can learn about this parasitic life form and these 'Covenant'."

* * *

As soon as Kyle's visitors left, he reactivated his datapad and began reviewing his own logs. Even if there was little navigation info available, he remembered having input the coordinates of the ring world. If he managed to get back to the Zephyrs bridge, or at least get his "rescuers" to give him what little data is left, he could figure out where he had gone since then.

* * *

Some hours later a Cylon of each model congregated in the conference room. The Six, Natalie, began delivering her report on their findings of the Thirteenth Tribe's enemies.

"They're an alliance of various alien species, apparently at war with the humans. From the data we've gathered, it would seem they are on the brink of victory."

"As they should be," Cavil muttered in approval.

"We've studied both forces in this conflict thoroughly," Natalie continued. "Each possesses technology beyond our own. The only-"

"Yes, I think we're all aware of just how tiny we are compared to them in that sense," Cavil interrupted. "What is the Covenant's purpose for their war on the humans?"

"That's the area we had difficulty with," Natalie answered. "The humans do not know for certain, other than the Covenant have deemed them an affront to their religion, a plague of the galaxy."

Cavil smiled inside. Finally there was someone else out there in the universe he could relate to. Today was turning out nicely for him.

"Kyle Steiner," Cavil said. "What position does he hold?"

"Civilian," Natalie answered.

"Aboard a warship?" Number Three said incredulously.

"A stowaway, if I understood him correctly," Natalie continued. "His colony was attacked by the Covenant. The vessel he hid on, the _Pillar of Autumn_ , was able to flee."

"The ship we found isn't the _Pillar of Autumn_ ," Number Five said.

"No," Natalie confirmed. "At some point the Covenant pursued and attacked the ship. The crew had to evacuate. Eventually, Kyle was found and rescued by the _Bolt of Zephyr_."

"Rescued from where?" The Five inquired.

"He failed to specify, only saying that they made a blind jump and ended up in an uncharted region, although they did find evidence of a civilization there at some point."

"What of the _Zephyr's_ origin?" Number Four said. "Where was the ship deployed from?"

"Unknown, unfortunately," Number Two reported. "We finally managed to bypass the navigation security, only to find that all data was purged from the system. The only thing left was the coordinates for the ship's current location. The crew clearly didn't want anyone to know where the ship had been, or was going to."

"Steiner mentioned something called the _Cole Protocol_ ," Natalie added. "Possibly a security procedure or failsafe, maybe both."

"So we can't find Earth with the _Zephyr_ ," Number Three realized. "That may be the military directive, protect the homeworld."

"It is only a temporary countermeasure, at best," Number Two pointed out. "They only have a finite number of colonies now, it will not be long before the Covenant find the right one."

"We can't find Earth through the _Zephyr_ ," Cavil repeated. "What about through Steiner?"

* * *

Despite the fact that finding Earth through the warship was a bust, there was a consensus among the models to dissect the ship piece by piece for its technology.

The Number Three known as D'Anna Biers took charge of this operation. She went with the one of the teams to the Zephyr, and assigned them to sweep the ship for any remaining weapons or hand-held tools they might have missed the previous times. Other teams were currently busy attempting to download the ship's entire data core into a number of their fiber-optic storage units for eventual integration into the Hybrid network memory.

It took a moment for D'Anna to get used to the layout, but she eventually managed to make her way to the Captain's quarters.

For all the carnage the Cylons witnessed in most of the other decks, this room was absent of it. Not surprising, considering the quarters are the last place any competent captain would be located in the midst of such a threat.

Not unlike Colonial officers, this one kept a collection of books with him. The Three took a quick look through several of them. " _Famine's Beginning"_ she read the cover title aloud. "' _A documentary of First Contact.'_ More history?" She wondered as she picked another book, one with a rather intimidating size. " _Ancient Literature Revival: The Complete Shakespeare Collection, Volume One."_ She skimmed through the pages quickly, stopping at the beginning of each play and poem, finding herself intrigued by the remarkable similarities to the Colonials' literary history. "Fascinating," she whispered.

She realized she was wasting time, and closed the book, setting it down on the desk before her. She would have a Centurion bring a suitable case for these items later.

Her attention then turned to the desk itself, specifically the area where the chair was facing. There appeared to be a screen integrated into it, and from the looks of the various symbols displayed, it was most certainly active.

Yet there seemed to be no way of accessing it. No keypad, no switches, unless...

"A touch screen?" The Three queried aloud. She decided to test her guess by pressing on a part of the screen. Whatever page was originally displayed had now been replaced by another. Her attention, as well as surprise, was caught by the two words she first made out: Access Granted.

Going out on a whim, the Three figured that a captain's personal computer node would probably be restricted only to him. If that was the case, someone jury-rigged it, possibly to access restricted data or controls...

She decided to try to find out herself, and proceeded to familiarize herself with this interface.

After almost fifteen minutes of accidentally scrolling through one side of several pages, as well as exiting out of pages unintentionally, she finally found potential answers, in the form of the captain's log entries.

"Finally," she sighed in relief. She then began searching for whichever log would be the earliest. If their calendar and chronology were as similar to the Colonials as their literature, the year would probably remain the same, and the month...

"There," she said as she found the earliest recording, and began playback.

"Captain's personal review," spoke a low, authoritative male voice. "September 13, 2552. 14:30. The tech crew for the drive mechanism powering this experimental FTL system is determining whether or not it can now be installed. I must confess to a significant distaste for having my ship assigned for this test. This is a Battlecruiser, not a science vessel. If I had the choice, I would have had my whole crew replaced. I don't want them involved in this. Hell, I'd prefer being on the front lines than waiting around for the next Shaw-Fujikawa duo to come about. If this works out though, that's the first thing I'll push Command to grant us."

"Well, on the bright side," The Three spoke aloud. "You won't be waiting any longer. Next."

"Captain's report, September 18, 2552. 19:20. The procedure for the FTL drive installation has been given a green light across the board. I have my reservations, but I will follow my orders as directed. Hell, perhaps this new "jumping" system may yet give us an edge over the Covenant. Small hopes are better than none, as they say. If in fact they say that."

"Captain's personal review, September 23, 2552, 19:00. To our convenience, a friend has been recovered from the void, a civilian refugee from the planet Reach. The bad news is, it would seem the Covenant have found and bombarded Reach, and this man may be one of the last survivors. We're about to find out."

"Captain's report, September 29, 2552. 13:45. Our trek home has taken quite a toll so far. Several crewmen haven't reported for their shifts, and on numerous occasions we've encountered sporadic equipment failures. No one has been able to identify the cause, not even the A.I., which concerns me."

D'Anna did a double take. Did she hear what she think she heard? She replayed the log once more.

"No one has been able to identify the cause, not even the _A.I._ "

So he _did_ say that. This vessel possessed an artificial intelligence unit of some sort. It would have to be retrieved as soon as possible.

"Number Three," said a Six through the wireless channel. "One of the survey units has discovered something in Kyle Steiner's quarters."

* * *

D'Anna and two Fours made haste to the quarters. As soon as the door opened, they came face to face with three Centurions standing guard near each other, girding one of the corners in the room, with guns, and appendages primed. As D'Anna and the Fours approached, they stood aside, revealing a small, bulbous sac-like creature lying by the corner they were guarding. It appeared to have two pincer like appendages, along with small tentacles in its underside. If that in fact was its underside. No one could even tell if it was alive or dead.

"What..." said the Three. "Is _that_?"

* * *


	4. What They Say About the Box...

Ch. 03: What They Say About the Box...

* * *

**September 21, 2552, Installation 04.**

_An elevator finished its ascent, announcing its serviceability with a reverberating hum._

_Two Marines emerged from the elevator, met with the evermore singular architecture of an ancient long-extinct people. The duo, dissimilar and yet cohesive in a roundabout way, began exploring their immediate vicinity, coming across numerous dead corpses. Mutated, and untouched allies and enemies alike._

" _Untouched" was only partially correct. From the various blood stains, someone, more than likely the new aliens, dragged the bodies where they were now._

" _Clear."_

" _God..." murmured the younger of the pair, cringing at the sight of a mutilated Grunt._

" _Need to change your pants already, rookie?"_

_Steiner restrained a frustrated huff, and nearly forgot about the corpse in the process. "No, Walter." Sometimes the insensitivity of some greenhorns was unfathomable. "My pants and I are green."_

" _Anything salvageable?" Walter inquired, a firm grip on his rifle, keeping vigilant for any disturbance_

_Steiner grimly shook his head. "A few plasma grenades, but no other weapons."_

" _Fuck," he hissed. The new aliens must have taken them all. "Ammo check?"_

" _Clip and a half, here..." Kyle answered solemnly._

_Walter turned to the only passageway out of the chamber, his face briefly expressing hopelessness before shifting back into the usual, determined glare._

" _Looks like a long road there..." Steiner mumbled. "...and the only way out of here, Sir." he finished when he received yet another glare._

* * *

**15:30, October 11, 2552, UNSC Bolt of Zephyr**

Despite having previously acquainted herself with some of the controls on the computer stationed in the Captain's quarters, D'Anna was still incurring her share of mistakes.

At the moment, she was searching for the A.I. that was mentioned in said Captain's logs, in turn, as well as any means of communicating with it. Notwithstanding the fact that the logs suggested this ship possessed a self-aware unit, there was nothing to suggest that it was still here, a supposition which frustrated the Three.

The 'assistance' she had wasn't much help. The Eight known as Boomer turned out to be an icon of the Cylon no one wanted to be: self-conflicted, hypocritical, and worst of all, indecisive, unable to make any long-term commitment. It was no wonder their attempt at unity with the humans on New Caprica failed.

Some hero...

"Progress?" D'Anna reluctantly requested.

"Since you asked me twenty minutes ago?" Boomer answered. "None. I still can't tell what half of these consoles are supposed to do, or when I'm supposed to touch the screen to do something."

" _Frustrated much?"_ the Three thought. " _Serves you right."_

"Here," Four called to the Three. "Appears to be the personal log of one of the helmsmen."

"Play any one of the recent entries," D'Anna ordered.

"... _of course we don't leave people behind, and the Captain would be the last person to ignore a plea for help, but with all due respect, this isn't a rescue ship. We're technically not even supposed to be here. Wherever the hell here is..._

_Personally, I'd like to know what this kid was doing this far from home, and how he ended up in a damn Phantom."_

"Steiner?" Boomer wondered aloud.

"This Phantom sounds like it could be a ship of some sort," the Three noted. "Continue."

" _...screwed up this jump test, I didn't think it'd be possible for us to get worse news-said he was from Reach, of all places, and the Covenant have attacked it. That means there's not much between the Covenant and Earth now except for...oh God."_

"Steiner told us about Reach, but it would seem the planet holds more significance than simply being his home," said D'Anna. "I'll look through the Captain's quarters again, see if there's more information in the terminal, or his collection of books, about this world. Four, continue examining the logs. Fives, take a force of Centurions and Cassandra," she pointed towards a raven-maned Three. "Assist Boomer in her search for the A.I. Most other search parties have turned up nothing, it must be on the Bridge.

"Why don't we ask Steiner?" Cassandra suggested.

At this, D'Anna gave her an irritated glance as she walked by. "We did."

"Hmm," Cassandra mumbled. "Unfortunate."

"Two," D'Anna ordered. "Come with me."

* * *

Seven _bullets. That's how many rounds Kyle had left in his magazine, and he doubted he'd live long enough to use them all._

_Fortunately, it looked like he and superior asshole Walter were in the clear at the moment._

" _Try getting out of here with just seven more bullets?" he muttered to himself. "Sure, why not?"_

" _Steiner!" Walter called, snapping him out of his frenetic turmoil. "Take a look at this."_

_Steiner joined his superior by a holographic display, a map by the looks of it._

" _Schematics?" Steiner suggested._

" _Looks like it," Walter answered. "Why is it active, though?"_

" _Could be evacuation directions," Steiner supposed. "Wouldn't surprise me if a facility like this had disaster alerts."_

_Makes sense enough, so then that elevator there, that's how we got in this place."_

" _And, this..." Steiner followed. "...is where we are now."_

" _That leaves us..." Walter trailed off, tracing routes along the display with his finger. "...two exits."_

" _Okay," he continued. "Option A, we try to head back to that elevator."_

" _If we trek our way back there at a good pace," Steiner determined. "It will take us at least an hour and a half to get all the way back there. However, considering we've already been there before, the coast is probably clear."_

" _That's one hell of an assumption," Walter countered. "They may have been waiting for us to get in deep enough that we couldn't dig our way back out. Just because we didn't see them doesn't mean they weren't there. Option B, we take this route over to an exit much closer, probably taking less than thirty minutes."_

" _No good," Steiner disagreed. "See those highlighted passageways? If common sense is anything to go by, they're probably filled with the same misty crap we had to go through before, and there's a lot more space covered by that stuff there than there is at Route A. Or was, by this point."_

"Was, _being the boldfaced word," Walter argued. "We're going through there. Wake your legs back up and get ready to move out."_

" _Aye aye," Kyle sighed. "Locked and loaded...with what little ammo I have."_

* * *

**18:20, Bolt of Zephyr**

"Did it work?" said Cassandra, inquiring as to the progress of the Four's latest endeavour.

"I managed to download most of the logs onto this..." he answered, indicating the datapad currently in his grip. "Some of them are heavily encrypted, it will take some time before they become readable, while the rest are too severely corrupted."

"What...how the hell did those files just appear?"

"Sharon?" Cassandra said.

"When we first figured out how to access navigation systems, nearly all information was erased or locked out. Suddenly some of the more recent logs appear to have been... restored, and there are no security restrictions."

"Can you make anything out of it?" said the Three.

"Two weeks ago, this ship encountered a smaller vessel, identified as a bogey. Could be the 'Phantom' we heard about. The ship also appeared to be sending an unfiltered distress signal."

"Unfiltered?" said the Three. "Sloppy work. Assuming it was Steiner's doing however, it's not overall surprising. He's lucky these 'Covenant' didn't find him first."

"What the frak..." Boomer trailed off.

Cassandra was about to inquire as to the Eight's object of curiosity when she was pointed to a small pedestal next to the glass screen.

"There was no light active when we first arrived," she said.

"My God," Cassandra whispered. "It...it could be active, right now."

"The AI?" Boomer said. "If it was in there, why didn't-"

"Hello?" Cassandra spoke to the pedestal. As she mostly expected, there was no response. As Threes often tended to follow strong compulsions, however, she continued her attempt.

"Are you injured? We are..." she paused, taking a moment to decide whether or not to reveal who they are. "...we're here to help you. Who attacked you?"

Boomer, meanwhile, was caught between staring at the now flashing pedestal and at the Three as if a portion of her brain suddenly downloaded away.

"Cassandra..." she warned.

"Was it the Covenant?"

By this point, the Three decided it was time to try pressing buttons on the pedestal.

"Not sure how helpful that will be," Boomer chastised. "I went all over that thing last time and it didn't even beep-"

Rather ominously, the Bridge went dark, with the exception of a soft glow from the main view screen, and some mobile tablets.

"That's a lovely answer," Boomer commented.

She immediately regretted making her spiteful remark, when the pedestal light started to glow brighter, until finally it flashed again, followed by a bluish purple hue emanating from the touch screen.

In the space of a second or two, she saw what looked like a humanoid face composed of God knows what kind of bits and code.

The Cylons on the Bridge suddenly found themselves covering their ears as a deafening burst of noise flooded the deck.

Although no one could discern what was said, the voice clearly resembled that of a female.

"Frak!" Boomer yelled.

Just as quickly as it appeared, the face disappeared, and the pedestal was once again lifeless, leaving the present Cylons baffled, until the Three's attention was drawn elsewhere, and her hand reached to her ear.

"What do you mean?...where?...evacuate immediately, have the Centurions secure the area, wait until I get there. Alert Leobon and D'Anna that we have a problem."

* * *

As Steiner reminisced over the recent series of eye-openers, he wondered how the hell he managed to work with someone as uptight as Walter.

Not to mention why he suddenly felt sorry about his death.

Things were easier when all he needed to do was greet superior officers and deliver crap reports. At least then there was distance, making it easier for him to only worry about himself. Though it didn't hurt to think that for once he was looking out for the people he was hiding amongst... like that turned out well.

Now he was dwelling on the negative, and that wasn't going to help anything. He found he had to will himself to focus elsewhere...

Everything around him suddenly turned into a distraction, and he shielded his eyes,  
Slowly, he managed to shift his thoughts from the rather recent history to less relevant subjects. His friends on Reach, the last time he saw his family...

What little serenity he achieved was quickly lost when a strange, foreign feeling hit him like a wave from a crushing tide.

He hadn't felt that disturbed since after his botched infection...

At this moment, he could only describe it as something "stretching" his brain, causing him to put effort into staying in the present.

That was hard enough, and only became more difficult once thoughts he distantly recognized as those not his own poured in.

He quickly turned towards the wall to his right and tried focusing on the red light zooming back and forth.

As quickly as his own thoughts would travel, he relived the last moments of numerous victims of the Flood, including Jenkins, Mendoza, Bisenti, Charles, Walter...

His head started spinning, and his knees grew weak. He fell to the floor, keeping most of his weight on his shoulders.

...Evan, Jonathan, a Sangheili Zealot, a Major Domo...

Kyle finally managed to drive the "wave" into the dark crevices of his mind, until the feeling became little more than a slight tingle.

At the cost of heavily exerting himself to the point of nausea...

He didn't have an opportunity to complain as his attention turned to a voice just at the edge of his hearing. Not taking very long to figure out where it was coming from, he rose from the floor and approached the exit, taking care to avoid "upsetting" the robot.

"No need to worry," he whispered to the machine. "I have no intention of going anywhere."

Predictably, the robot didn't respond, and remained perfectly still, blankly staring ahead, if ahead is where it was looking. It was difficult to tell with its red eye constantly observing, back-and-forth.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Kyle continued, raising his voice minutely, while trying to adjust his position in whatever way would help him to better hear the voice outside.

"A shame," he added. "You remind me of me."

"...we don't know what it is yet," declared Natalie. "I'm bringing this to the subject, perhaps he can identify it."

"This find is almost as strange as the Pegasus incident," spoke another, unrecognized voice. Definitely a woman, but that was all he could tell. "When we didn't find any significant debris..."

"I too share your curiosity sister."

Kyle would have tried to peek out, if it weren't for the gut feeling that the guard would have eviscerated him in one fell swoop..

Kyle could hear footsteps nearing; No doubt Natalie was coming to see him. He quickly stepped away from the passage and pretended to work on one of the datapads on the stand by his bed.

"Good to see you up and about."

Kyle turned to meet his greeter, who wore a more or less "light" expression, though he could see concern in her eyes, obviously having to do with her reason for visiting.

"Are you alright?" She suddenly asked. "You look a little...drained."

"However much sleep I managed to get before must have been a fluke," Kyle answered. "I can't stop thinking about the attack on Reach."

It wasn't necessarily untrue, but it seemed a safer subject of discussion than the more pressing concern.

Natalie must have decided that this was going to be her business, because she swiftly sat herself on the bed next to Kyle.

"An experience like that..." Natalie started. "...tends to haunt you."

"In more ways than you're prepared for," Steiner added. "I knew some good people back home. Most of them are probably dead..." He slowly hung his head. "My family may be among them."

"All of them?" Natalie said.

"I didn't really know anyone outside the immediate family," Steiner admitted. "Grandparents died when I was very young, no cousins..."

"Siblings?"

"No, thank God," Steiner chuckled. "Only child, and I'm glad it stayed that way."

Natalie smirked at that. "Why is that?"

"Having a sibling can be quite a burden," Kyle said. "Of course, there was a point when I was too young to understand that, and practically begged my parents for a sibling. These days, I'm glad it didn't happen."

"I don't mean to pry, but..." said Natalie. "You said they 'may' have died."

"We were trying to book transport back to Earth or one of the inner colonies. From what I can remember, we were close to getting a flight. I was elsewhere when the attack happened and...I don't know. Maybe they managed to get on one of the first few evac birds out. If they did, though, they're probably..."

Kyle shook his head. "I-I'm sorry. I can't talk about this anymore. Not right now. Is there...something you wanted me for?"

"There is," Natalie answered. "I have a photograph of something we found aboard the Zephyr during the course of our investigation. Have you seen this before?"

Having been handed an E-sheet, Kyle had to use every _ounce_ of willpower to control his reaction, as he only had a few seconds to decide what side of the fence he would play regarding the sight before him: a Flood Infection Form.

_Shit,_ was the first of many thoughts dancing in his head.

"Where did you find this?" his mouth suddenly blurted. There went the chance to deny any knowledge of it.

"Your quarters," Natalie answered. "I suppose you knew _nothing of it?_ "

Kyle let out a heavy sigh. He already told them a little bit about his accident. How much more did his captors really need to know?

Assuming that they didn't know more about them already...

"I know it shouldn't be on the ship, or on any ship for that matter. Is it still there?"

"For now," she answered. "We've been conducting preliminary tests and will be bringing it aboard this ship for further study."

"You can't do that," Kyle immediately protested. "You must destroy it, or you risk losing the Zephyr _and_ this ship."

"So you know of them?" Natalie pressed.

Kyle sighed resignedly. "I never said I didn't. As I said before, you must destroy it."

"Why? What is there to hide?"

Kyle shook his head in irritation. Sometimes the message just didn't get through to people.

"A lot..." he answered. "...and for damn good reason. You bring me this now after...how long ago did you say you found this?"

"I never said anything of the sort," Natalie corrected.

"Right," Kyle muttered. "Well considering you're telling me this **now** and assuming you found this a while ago, I could only surmise that this thing is dormant. Who knows how long that will last? When it wakes up, you'll wish you listened to me."

"I can't give any more warning than that, not even to you. Some would consider it 'classified'," he concluded in a mocking tone, along with air quotes.

Natalie was about to deliver a retort when she suddenly turned her attention away from Kyle and up to the ceiling above him. Kyle would have thought she was staring off into space if it wasn't for the fact that as she watched the spot above him, her face began to express an alert tone.

When she finally did look back at Kyle, a part of him wished she hadn't.

After she hastily departed his quarters, Kyle guessed what the rush was all about and dismissed the scuttle with a whispered "Told you so."


	5. Don't Open It

3.5 - Don't Open It

" _You bring me this now after...how long ago did you say you found this?"_

" _I never said anything of the sort," Natalie corrected._

_"Right," Kyle muttered. "Well considering you're telling me this_ _ **now**_ _and assuming you found this a while ago, I could only surmise that this thing is dormant. Who knows how long that will last? When it wakes up, you'll wish you listened to me."_

* * *

**18:22, Supposedly a UNSC BlackOps ship...**

Kyle ran his hands through his hair as he waited...and waited...and waited, for anyone, or anything, to walk in and deliver the worst of news, or the best. He couldn't deny as he stared right through the photograph which Natalie left behind that the wait was _killing_ him.

"So," he said to himself. "What are you in for? Oh, just accidentally killed a few thousand or more people. _Accidentally?_ Well, it was sort of their own fault, they were too stubborn for their own good and kind of ignored my warnings about this super dangerous alien plague. Damn, sucks to be them."

* * *

**15:45, Bolt of Zephyr, Captain's Quarters.**

"Nothing," D'Anna huffed. "No location, no population studies, not even when it was settled."

"They are exceptionally fearful about the discovery of their colonies," Leoben noted. "Steiner was correct. These humans are not faring well in this war."

"I wonder how many of these colonies the 'Covenant' have yet to find," said D'Anna.

"Pointless supposition," Leoben remarked. "However, considering the details he has disclosed already, he may be able to fill in some of these gaps."

"Maybe," the Three muttered. "Maybe not."

"You seem rather displeased about the human's presence," the Two noted.

"I'm sure the reason is self-explanatory," D'Anna retorted.

"Is Dr. Baltar somehow an exception to your judgment?" Leoben countered.

"No," the Three answered. "Baltar is one human, and dealing with _one_ is difficult enough, but he has proven his worth on several occasions, and has displayed a vast degree of knowledge and experience. I cannot say the same for this...adolescent."

"Perhaps you would if he were to take Baltar's place between you and Caprica," Leoben flippantly remarked.

D'Anna, God bless her, kept a straight face as she looked him in the eye, and said, "As the leader of this task force and a friend, I would humbly advise you to _shut the frak up_."

* * *

**16:25**

The search and salvage group in Engineering finished their twice-over of the ship's prototype FTL propulsion system. It was altogether not too different from the Colonial's first jump drive, however there were several notable design flaws ultimately leading to its having become damaged beyond repair, most likely during and after the jump.

Which left only the already discarded slipspace drive.

Elsewhere aboard the Zephyr, bodies were being transported here and there as the Cylons sorted out their identities, ranks and positions, for the sole purpose of determining which ones would be stored in the cryo tubes, as there were more bodies than there were tubes, likely because said tubes were meant for short-term hibernation only.

In one of these cryo storage rooms, a Number Five was surveying several scattered bodies and consulting with a list on an E-sheet. At the moment, he was forced to choose between one of the scientists from the FTL test team, and one of the Command crew.

He tapped on the name of the scientist and directed the Centurions to put the body in.

The bodies that didn't make it to the cryo tubes were well on their way to the infirmary and the morgue and prepared for on-site autopsies.

* * *

Meanwhile outside, a single Heavy Raider was continuously circling the perimeter, performing constant scans on inoperative flak turrets in proximity to a group of Centurions as well as pressure-suited Cylon Sims, currently using plasma torches to carefully extract a piece of the hull plating for analysis. They were nearly finished, with only centimeters left.

With luck, the extraction of this piece of metal would result in the replication and construction of said material, perhaps giving the advantage they'd need to finish Galactica and the fleet...

_Wishful thinking_ , one of the Fives thought as he resumed his work.

* * *

To the Five assigned the task of test piloting aircraft within the starboard hangar probably had the most to offer in the way of glamour as well as technology. There were several different vehicles within, not merely limited to aircraft. There were at least a dozen chaingun-mounted jeeps, three battle tanks, and a pair of Fast Attack Vehicles.

It did not take long to find the vehicle he was assigned to test pilot, the troop carrier which the crew apparently called the Pelican, as well as the Eight who was waiting for him.

The Five only paid minimal attention to her recitation of the assignment as he took the opportunity to observe several of the other aircraft within the hangar.

"...thrust, navigation and..." the Eight turned her head towards the Pelican with a doubtful expression. "...cargo capacity."

"We can always deliver an estimate," the Five stated nonchalantly as he passed the Eight and found his way to the cockpit. "After all, it's not like one _can't_ guess by simply looking at it."

"That is not my concern," the Eight responded. "My _concern_ is whether or not we'll even be able to attach the cargo, and get off this ship!"

"Well, the cargo..." muttered the Five as he started skimming through a flight manual. "We can cross that bridge when...and _if_ we get there. First we have...what was it?"

"Thrust," they said at the same time.

"Nav-con green," the Eight checked. "Interval...check. Instruments good. All systems-"

Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, the Five got the bright idea to jump the gun and press one of the buttons in front of them, bringing the transport's jets online and lifting it several feet off the ground.

Hearing something akin to a scream, the Eight brought the vehicle to a complete stop and shut everything down, before practically dragging the Five along with her as they went to investigate the sound, to find the burning remains of one of the Sixes.

Someone was going to have their heads...at least there was a Resurrection ship in range.

"She did it," the Five said to no one in particular. It would be at least partially believable, considering Boomer's landing issues during her time aboard Galactica.

The Eight knew it, and mentally burned the Five with her eyes as she whispered, "You son of a bitch."

* * *

In the infirmary, the Four known as Simon O'Neill paced back and forth from one corpse to the other, trying for the life of him to figure out why one of the bodies in particular, a young caucasian female, wasn't fitting in to the pattern he was seeing. Almost all of the other bodies had obvious injuries caused by shrapnel, bullets, knives or downright strangulation.

This woman was one of the few who did not fit into any of those categories.

The only injuries she seemed to sustain were two almost needle-sized punctures near her jugular, evenly divided and side by side. None of the weapons analyzed and recovered so far matched the given entry pattern.

Judging from the wounds, however, whatever pierced her couldn't have been thicker than a syringe, but had a somewhat more cylindrical geometry...

This encouraged O'Neill to follow up with toxicology screenings and discovered traces of an unknown substance present in her bloodstream, and a good portion of it had accumulated in her skull.

Additionally, there was bruising at the back of her neck, the type of which indicated an inflammation not far from the spinal cord.

In all of his days, he'd never heard of a neurotoxinthat could deliberately cause an inflammation as a means to bypass the blood-brain barrier...

This was not a neurotoxin, he concluded. Whatever this was...it seemed too efficient to be anything natural.

The Four looked toward the plasteel cylinder which held the alien inside. While it was not entirely within his parameters to guess about anything, he couldn't help but wonder if the creature was connected to all of this in some fashion.

"The same?" he said, dismissive of the Number Five who began observing the various studies. A plastic container holding one of the bullets extracted from a body, being one of them.

"The same as the others," said Five confirmed. "More and more it seems as though they just decided to kill each other."

"Nonsense," O'Neill objected. "No military force decides to 'just' do anything."

"That's...not what I meant," the Five responded. "There must have been a mutiny of some sort, or perhaps they caught some disease that made them incapable of rational thought-"

"Supposition until otherwise verified," O'Neill bluntly stated.

"Reasonable supposition, nevertheless," said the Five. "My point is, one would think that a civilization as advanced as this one seems to be would be more prepared for unexpected circumstances."

"You speak as though they should have been any more prepared for the mishap with their FTL test than the Colonial fleet was for the 'unexpected' shutdown of their ships."

"From what I've been hearing, I don't see why they wouldn't be-"

They were cut off by the sound of a soft metallic _clang_.

A survey of the surroundings, however, revealed nothing out of place or out of the ordinary. The two Cylons decided to scan out the room piece by piece, just to make sure.

O'Neill was about to call it quits when the Five suddenly said "Didn't you have something in here?"

His expression turned grim as he saw the Five holding an open and now empty plasteel container.

"Yes," he slowly answered. "I did."

* * *

**17:40**

Still in the Captain's quarters, D'Anna and Leoben were examining practically everything they could get their hands on. Leoben was skimming through more of the captain's book collection while D'Anna was examining more of the Captain's logs.

" _...September 29, 2552. 13:20. Three more casualties today, the crew is getting on edge. I take back what I said before, I wish all the old crew were here. At least then I knew how to keep everyone in line. Authority can only go so far...we need to find out who's behind these incidents before things get any more ugly."_

"So it escalated from a few deaths to everyone," D'Anna stated.

"Even the most disciplined are susceptible to paranoia," Leoben noted.

D'Anna's attention was turned away to her earpiece as she received unwelcome news from O'Neill.

"What do you mean 'it's gone?'... well, the fact that it's nowhere to be found belies that testimony... Well, take Doral with you and find it... Yes, you! You lost it, you find it! If need be, Centurions can be sent...good."

* * *

"I do not understand it myself," said O'Neill. "I took all necessary precautions and was the only one allowed access to the specimen... Your guess is as good as mine as to how. Us? But...no, I don't believe we'll need the Centurions. We'll find it."

"Why not use the Centurions?" Doral questioned.

"They're more likely to destroy the specimen then recover it," O'Neill reminded the Five. "Even _if_ they were assigned those parameters."

"I suppose so," Doral half-heartedly agreed. He began checking his sidearm when O'Neill handed him a pair of gloves.

"What?" he said, not yet aware why he would need––

"Oh, right." he realized. The specimen.

The search for the missing alien was not as difficult as anticipated, as it seemed to be leaving a rather subtle but visible residue trail. Furthermore, O'Neill was becoming inclined of the creature's intelligence, due to said trail leading to separate areas, the ones of which the creature did not in fact continue onward becoming dead ends.

When the duo finally found its actual course, it lead to a rather inconvenient obstacle, a ventilation shaft.

"I am not yet completely familiar with the layout of this ship," said the Four. "Do you-?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," the Five admitted. "However, I believe we produced and distributed copies of the schematics. At least one of the... _perfect_."

O'Neill's expression became inquisitive when Doral glared mischievously at an incoming Six, who was looking intently at her tablet.

"Leave this to me," Doral insisted as he moved to intercept her.

"Oh, dear me." Doral feigned apology as he "accidentally" bumped into her and acquired the tablet. "I must be conveniently clumsy today. Thanks for the tablet, I promise to break it before I return it."

The Six was about to protest to the sudden robbery when she recognized the Five, and instead resigned to silently mouthing a promise of slow, painful retribution as he and O'Neill quickly departed.

"You're really going to break it?" the Four asked.

"Of course not..." Doral replied. "...but don't tell her that."

"In all seriousness," the Four chastised. "The two of you need to stop lunging at each other's throats. New Caprica is practically ancient history under the current circumstances."

"And like history..." Doral countered. "...it should not be forgotten."

"Why do I care?" said O'Neill. "I'm not the one taking the chance of getting boxed for disrupting protocol and cohesion. Now, does that tablet contain the schematics?"

"Indeed," the Five confirmed. "And I've found the ventilation shaft the alien traversed. Aside from where we are now, there are only two other exits: A maintenance tunnel intersection and a morgue, one deck below."

Silence filled the air as both Cylons were apprehensively waiting on the other to make a decision over who went where.

"I'll take the tunnel," Doral decided resignedly.

The Four nodded and left to find the nearest elevator, while the Five proceeded through the maintenance access.

* * *

Not long after stepping off the elevator, O'Neiil seemed convinced that he wouldn't be the one to find the creature, until about half-way to his destination, he noticed that the lights ahead were apparently malfunctioning. Curiously enough, he also seemed to be the only person in this particular section, if the eerie silence was anything to go by.

Slowly he took out a small flashlight and crept forward, curious of whether or not the morgue would hold the answers to the unspoken questions.

* * *

Curiosity among the Number Ones is typically minimal at best. Ones are usually reclusive, judgmental, and in the worst of cases, prejudiced.

Not this Number One. At least, he certainly wasn't as reclusive or prejudiced, and at this moment a certain calling was once again getting the better of him, just as it did years before...

Aboard the Cylon Basestar, this Number One was examining the blood samples Dr. O'Neill extracted from Steiner, as well as the records of the medical examination from the _Bolt of Zephyr_.

As O'Neill discovered, there was definitely an unknown tissue present in the blood. The majority of the cells' structure also appeared to have been altered...

Something was eerily familiar about the analysis, however, yet the Number One for the life of him could not determine what it was, until...

It seemed the Four paid almost zealous attention to detail as the One found a complete listing of the protein chains for the samples. Among those chains...

The pieces clicked into place, as the significance of this discovery dawned upon him...

_Would the others know?_ he wondered. He couldn't risk anyone finding _this_...

Looking between the blood resting within the sealed glass tube, and the report he held in his hands, the One knew what he had to do...

* * *

Doral, meanwhile, was starting to wish he hadn't been the one to take the maintenance tube. The walls seemed to close in after a while, and for whatever reason there was little in the way of lighting, save for the flashlight module on his sidearm. If the creature was in the tunnel, he had no doubt that it could easily slip by him unnoticed.

Soon enough, however, he found the telltale sign of the creature's passing, and quickly followed it to another door, revealing a silhouetted figure standing by it's path.

The Five, having become jumpy from his venture through the tunnel, drew his gun at the figure, until the flashlight revealed the man to be none other than Simon O'Neill.

"What are you doing here?" said the Five.

"Waiting for you," the Four replied. "I was not inclined to continue this search alone, especially after-"

"Why are the lights off?" Doral noticed rather quickly. Whatever bravado he pretended to have before now was quickly leaving him.

"...that is why I was waiting for you," the Four supplemented. "We appear to be the only ones present on this deck. Curious, as I was under the inclination that there were, at the very least, a deployment of Centurions patrolling here."

"What about the alien?" Doral inquired. "Did you find it?"

O'Neill trailed the residue with his finger from where Doral was standing to the high ceiling above them.

"I was on my way to the morgue, when I found and followed this trail from the elevator, leading to this maintenance tunnel..."

"So it didn't go to the morgue?" Doral concluded.

"It is uncertain," replied O'Neill, as he consulted with the schematics on the tablet once more.

"We'll need to search the cabins on this deck, including the armory, as well as the laboratories ... _astrometrics,_ _AI data core array_ , and of course, the morgue."

* * *

Much like the rest of the deck, O'Neill found the astrometrics lab lacking power, and it apparently wasn't limited to the lights; none of the computers appeared to be functioning.

The layout of the lab made it easy for the Four to scan the room for the alien, taking no longer than a couple of minutes, with no sign of the creature to be found.

On his way out, however, he thought he caught a glimpse of something on one of the screens. Pointing his flashlight toward the source, he found what appeared to be a card of some sort, though the exact purpose of it was unknown, as the card was blank, nondescript. Given the possible uses of such an item aboard a military ship however, it must have been security or clearance related. Briefly he wondered who in their competent mind would leave something like that haphazardly in a decided to hold on to it for the moment and moved on to look for the armory.

* * *

Sadly for Doral, it was not as easy to search for the alien in the frustrating design that was the AI Data Array. If it was in here, there were too many ways for it to hide or slither away. The one actuality that kept his emotional response in check was the residue the alien left behind.

Come to think of it, however, they barely knew anything about said alien. What if it didn't always leave such a trail behind...

Doral shook his head, they made the decision to conduct their search based on the information they did possess, and now was the worst of times to let doubt descend upon either of them.

He thought he found the residue on the floor ahead of him, and slowly followed it to its source to find... nothing.

He backed up slowly to try to get a better look at it when he bumped into something cold...

* * *

When O'Neill reached the armory he discovered that it was locked, and conveniently required a keycard for access. The card he liberated from the astrometrics lab just happened to be a valid one.

Just as the door opened, however, he heard a gunshot from back the way he came. He rushed back toward the AI Core room to find Doral attempting to calm himself as his gun was pointed at a Centurion lying on the ground.

When Doral noticed the Four, he lowered his gun. "Reflex," he explained. "It...wasn't even active."

O'Neill looked from Doral, to the Centurion, and back to Doral. No doubt with what they encountered so far, the Five was obviously more than a little on edge.

"So much for greater discipline," the Five chastised himself.

"I'm sure any other Cylon in your place would have reacted in a similar manner," O'Neill added. "Did you find it?"

"Nothing here," Doral answered.

"And it's not in astrometrics or the armory," O'Neill supplemented. "That only leaves the morgue..."

* * *

**18:15**

The door opened swiftly to reveal at first glance nothing out of the ordinary, with the exception of the flickering lights, of course. Doral and O'Neill slowly crept in, scanning the room for the alien.

At the far end of the morgue, the alien was standing atop a gurney, 'staring' them down.

A moment after they trained their flashlights on the creature, it quickly scurried away. Then they heard scattering noises from the opposite direction and followed them to find more of the little beasts.

Above said beasts was...something, what looked like a veinous sac on the ceiling. Next to it appeared to be a similar sac, but...empty. The two Cylons looked directly below them to find the remnants of said sac.

They didn't have any more time for observation as one of the critters leapt toward a gurney and started _burrowing itself_ into the corpse.

What happened next was almost incomprehensible to the two Cylons as the formerly dead, and barely recognizable crewman rose from the gurney and charged towards them...

Doral fired at the body until it dropped to the ground again, but now the other critters were quickly acquiring bodies of their own...

O'Neill reflexively grabbed at one of the creatures as it leapt towards _him_ and consequently popped it.

An unspoken consensus was formed between the two Cylons as they darted out of the morgue to the closest way off the cursed deck.

* * *

**18:23**

"Cue disaster..." Steiner whispered.

* * *


	6. Pandora's Wrath

Pandora's Wrath

* * *

**18:23 - Bolt of Zephyr**

"We've lost contact with Simon and Doral, all feeds from deck twelve have been severed," Cassandra reported.

"Comm signals?" D'Anna suggested.

"Negative."

_How ominously sudden_ , D'Anna thought.

"Take a squadron of Centurions to investigate this disturbance," D'Anna ordered. "Until then, no further access is permitted."

"Understood."

D'Anna contacted Engineering, promptly answered by an Eight.

"What's the status of the FTL drive?" she inquired.

"We have managed to disconnect it from the reactor. We will need heavy gear to transport it to the Heavy Raiders."

"There is a malfunction in deck twelve, safe transit cannot be confirmed. Hold the transportation until further notice."

"Acknowledged," answered the Four.

"What have we learned of deck twelve?" she asked Leoben.

"The majority of the deck consists of crew quarters and makeshift R&D laboratories," Leoben answered. "I believe it also contains a morgue and a mainframe array, both of which have already been searched."

"Cassandra is already searching them once more," D'Anna decided. "We're either dealing with a mechanical failure, or something on deck twelve is jamming all signals within."

She accessed the Captain's computer and searched for the PA access...

"All teams, be advised..."

* * *

Doral and Simon momentarily paused to hear the broadcast.

"...a disturbance has been reported on deck twelve, and all contact has been severed..."

* * *

Cassandra and her Centurion squad boarded the elevator and directed it to the blacked-out deck.

"...Centurions have been deployed to investigate..."

* * *

In Engineering and the hangars, the various crews paused to listen.

"...Until the anomaly is identified and resolved, no further access to deck twelve is authorized. As a precaution, all Heavy Raiders should be primed for launch and all teams proceed with preliminary evacuation procedures."

If the ship wasn't buzzing with activity before, it was now.

* * *

**18:30**

With a whir, the elevator door slowly opened, allowing Cassandra and her escorts passage into the dark corridors of deck twelve. The Centurions quickly activated their mounted flashlight modules.

She allowed them to proceed ahead, scanning all around for practically anything moving besides themselves and the Three.

They began their search with the makeshift laboratories, only to find that said laboratories were practically sterilized.

However unlikely it may have seemed, she felt the need to try to reach them again.

"Doral, are you receiving? Over."

Silence.

"Simon!" she called, only to be met with static.

Either their personal wireless units were damaged or the Cylons in question were not in any state to respond.

That was when Cassandra realized the Cylons had contacted her from the morgue. What if they hadn't used their wireless then? She decided to try raising the morgue directly.

"Doral! Simon! Are you-"

The Three paused as she heard...something. "Doral?" she tried again, with uncertainty.

The channel was most definitely open, but all that Cassandra could hear was a deathly silence, occupied only by strange, guttural sounds.

* * *

On the receiving end in the morgue, a single corpse slowly approached the wall-mounted comm unit...

"God damn it," said the voice on the other end. "What the hell is going on in there?"

Pressing a few buttons with the only hand even remotely human available, the Combat Form silently closed the channel.

* * *

"Frak!" Cassandra cursed, as she apparently lost the connection. It seemed her only option left was to go to the morgue herself and find out what the hell those sounds were.

She ordered three of her Centurions to continue searching the rest of the deck, while she took the remaining two with her to the morgue...

She suddenly halted as she thought she saw something scurrying across the floor. A scan of the area with her flashlight however, revealed nothing but empty space.

Cautiously, she crept ahead, weapon ready and trigger happy, if something moved...

Thank God she didn't shoot first when she found Doral and Simon with their own weapons drawn, but she nearly had a heart attack in the process.

"Where have you been?" she started.

"On the run, and we need to keep moving!" Doral answered.

"Why isn't the morgue comm-"

"We," Simon answered. "Do not. Have time. We must get off this ship, _now_."

"Wait, why? What's happened?"

Not far from where Cassandra came from, gunfire could be heard.

"There's your answer!" said Doral.

In the distance, Cassandra could see one of the Centurions shooting at something. Some _things_ , it turned out, one of which passed the Centurion and charged towards where the trio were a moment ago.

"What the frak are those?" Cassandra yelled as they ran for cover.

"The bodies from the morgue," said the Four. "The aliens...recycled them."

"Are you frakking kidding me?" Doral chastised. "They were _butchered_."

They could hear the... _thing_ closing fast behind them, and Cassandra must have decided that she was done running as she turned and drew her sidearm.

_Three...two...fire._

With four well placed shots to the torso, the 'body from the morgue' dropped to the ground, lifeless.

Consequently, the inertia from the body's prior movement and the added kinetic energy from the bullets resulted in a bit of squash landing on the Three's shoulders.

She fought her gag reflex and flicked the crap off before she could dwell on it for too long in the midst of a critical situation.

"What the hell happened in the morgue?"

"The alien we discovered," Simon explained. "We found more of its kind in the morgue. They burrowed into the chest cavities of the dead and..." he trailed off.

"They tried to get us, too," Doral continued. "They don't seem to care if we're alive or dead."

"They tried to get us..." Simon repeated. Suddenly something clicked in his mind, and he realized...

"If they feed on both the living and dead...and a Cylon..."

Cassandra caught on quickly, and reached to her earpiece, attempting to reach the Baseship.

* * *

**18:42 - Cylon Basestar**

"Why are we at Condition One?" Natalie said as she arrived in the CIC.

"We've been warned to quarantine the _Bolt of Zephyr_ ," another Six explained. "A lethal contaminant is rapidly spreading throughout the ship."

To say that Natalie was perplexed would have been an understatement. " _What_ 'lethal contaminant?'"

"There were apparently more aliens like the one found in Steiner's quarters," answered a Four. "They are rapidly multiplying using the corpses of the former crew as well as live prey."

"The teams are already set for evacuation..." the Six continued. "...but the creatures have been impeding their approach to the hangars."

Their attention refocused on the somewhat frantic comm chatter. As soon as Natalie connected to the terminal she did what she could to sort through the reports and requests for orders until she found what she was looking for: Some of the Cylons had in fact managed to reach their transports. Five Heavy Raiders, plus several of the 'Pelicans' and one unknown contact were en route to the Baseship.

"Preparing a security and decon team for hangar two," said the Four.

"Confirmed," said a Six. "The unknown contact is under Cylon control."

* * *

**18:55**

"Move, move, move!" shouted D'Anna to one of the last teams on their way to _Zephyr's_ port hangar. They could hear the beasts' inhuman shrieks as they charged for the door...

They didn't exactly end up in the hangar, but an observation room within it. As she looked below her, the Three could easily see that the other teams were having enough difficulty just getting to the Heavy Raiders; the aliens established something of a barricade in their path...

To make matters even more complicated, the barricade in question was a large chain of explosive material. They were exploiting the danger of detonating the explosives to keep their prey at bay.

Strangely enough, the majority of the aliens fighting were the ones that could shoot, and not the killer turnips which ambushed the Three's own team the last seven times...

It didn't take long to figure out why...they had boarded the Heavy Raiders. Some of them had already been infected, as evidenced by the eye moving erratically, blood and fluid leaking from the corners of its panel, and even ghastly looking discolourations along the hull plating.

By this point, implications of a greater danger struck the Three like a flail. If those Raiders returned to the Baseship now... and now that they were already active...

There was no time left, and if God condemned her for what she was about to do, so be it.

She began reciting the prayer to the cloud of unknowing in her head as she hesitantly established contact with the Cylons below.

She struggled to breathe. This was the end for them, and the only reprieve is they would have no question of whether or not it was worth it, unlike her. Unless she too, did not survive.

The Heavy Raiders' eyes were moving even more frantically now...by this point they could have launched...were they completely subverted yet?

No, this was _not_ the time. As far as she was aware, she may only have seconds to spare.

Literally moments after she gave the order, at least one Cylon from each team concentrated fire on the explosives, until explosion after explosion, the superstructure gave way to the emptiness of vacuum, blowing everyone and everything out of it.

The Three found herself lacking the ability to even weep at the sight, and as she stared at the remains of the hangar, the last of the prayer rang loudly in her mind.

_When your anger awakens, even the mighty will fall._

* * *

**18:57**

When the coast seemed clear, Doral released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. For all the talk of being an improvement produced among the ruins of humanity, it was a frakking nightmare to be reduced to...this. Part of the Five wished that the Cylons were still rebuilding Caprica, if only to avoid ever having discovered this battlecruiser from hell.

The battle against the swarm which had pursued them cost the trio heavily, as all but a single Centurion remained.

The Five almost lost his balance when the ship violently rocked. "What the hell was that?"

Cassandra reached to her earpiece. "Hull breach," she reported. "Heavy explosives were detonated in the portside hangar...No survivors."

Which meant the closest escape route was gone, Doral realized.

"Doral!" Cassandra snapped, bringing the Five back to the present. "Gear up."

Without a word, the Five complied, taking a scoped rifle and two grenades from the weapons locker. He couldn't help but glance when he noticed that Simon only acquired one of the magnum sidearms.

"Four?" He said, not bothering to finish. O'Neill's hesitance for heavy firepower was evident, and these beasts were rather unlikely to care.

"It's them or us," Doral stressed, emphasizing the point by handing him one of the scoped rifles. "Take your pick."

If there was any bright side to this for O'Neill, it was more or less the greater chance he had of actually hitting the right targets with the rifle, than say the shotgun which Cassandra was wielding.

As soon as he was finished, they resumed their trek to the hangar.

Only, as Doral noticed, despite not being _entirely_ acquainted with the ship layout, they were going the opposite direction from the other operational hangar, a point which he decided to vocalize to Cassandra.

"We're not leaving yet," the Three verified. "We need to get to the Bridge."

"The _Bridge_?" Doral was confounded. "By now those _things_ have probably already taken it!"

"And the A.I. is still there." Cassandra explained. "We must retrieve it."

"It's four decks below us on the other side of the ship!"

"And if it has been taken," Simon interjected. "There is nothing to indicate or guarantee that the construct is still even functioning at this point."

"We have the opportunity to find out," Cassandra determined resolutely.

"Forget the AI," Doral objected. "We need to leave while we still can."

"I concur," Simon added. "This ship and its secrets are expendable at this point."

"The secrets of a vessel..." Cassandra iterated. "...from the _Thirteenth Tribe_ , are not at all expendable, and if we lose the ones this A.I. holds, the Ones will never let us hear the end of it."

"We know the secrets it _doesn't_ hold." Doral noted. "It can't lead us to Earth, it can't tell us where the alien 'Phantom' ship came from, and it definitely can't tell us..."

_...what happened to its crew,_ he wanted to finish, but was abruptly cut off by a thump which ended his tirade and caught the trio's attention as they trained their weapons on the source...

Cassandra silently praised God for staying her trigger finger when D'Anna and Leoben stepped out from their cover.

"Sister," D'Anna acknowledged. "What are you doing here?"

"Making our way to the Bridge." Cassandra answered. "To secure the A.I."

"As are we..." said Leoben. "The last report we received from the Bridge indicated that it is downloading into a storage device. They're defending the terminal, awaiting our arrival."

"The Bridge crew is still alive?" Simon said.

"For the moment," D'Anna answered solemnly. "The enemy is pressing their efforts on the command deck, we think they're trying to take control of the ship."

"Then we must make haste," Cassandra concluded.

* * *

**19:01**

Debris, gore, gibs and shell casings lay astrew wherever they walked, Doral couldn't help but notice that the sheer amount of each was increasing more and more as they drew nearer to the mess hall.

He was also quick to note how everything had suddenly become too quiet for his liking...

By the time they reached the entrance, the only sounds that could be heard were the tell-tale guttural roars of the reanimated 'UNSC' corpses, along with their former comrades, prompting them to hug the walls adjacent to the door.

"You'd think they'd want to guard the door," Doral whispered.

"Despite their ferocity and numbers..." Simon remarked. "...their coordination seems...irregular."

"How many are there?" said D'Anna.

Cassandra dipped her head in for a split second before quickly returning to cover. "Enough," she answered.

As a suggestion, Doral took out a grenade before looking to D'Anna, who silently fingered 'two' in response. He passed the grenade to her, took the second, and after a nod from D'Anna, they primed and tossed them inside.

_...two...three._..BOOM.

The deafening explosion successfully destroyed all of the infected, clearing the hall. Surprisingly, there was no further opposition the rest of the short path to the bridge, save for a group of infection forms in the entrance corridor which were easily disposed of.

The team found the Bridge littered with the corpses of the defending squad, some of which had obviously been infected.

"We should..." D'Anna started. She looked down at the mangled body of a Six, unable to shake the feeling that what she was about to suggest was somehow the equivalent of sacrilege. "...salvage what gear we can, from the bodies."

Leoben, surprisingly, was the first to agree as he took the spare ammunition from his dead brother.

"Sister," Cassandra called from the Bridge's primary terminal. "I need your help."

"What is it?" D'Anna said as she approached, noticing her sister Three's confused expression.

"If I correctly understand what this is displaying..." Cassandra answered. "...the readout says the download is complete, but... there's no sign of where or what it was downloaded to."

"Search the bodies for anything resembling a storage unit," D'Anna ordered the others, before leaving Cassandra to conduct a search of her own.

By nature, Threes are not usually prone to panic. Fear, yes, given appropriate circumstances. Their model still occasionally reminisced on how the insurgent suicide bomber from New Caprica killed four hundred police recruits, including one of their own. That event certainly produced a peculiar blend of fear and disappointment.

For Cassandra, this was certainly developing into more than either one. She could practically feel what the humans called a "panic attack" incoming, every time she saw the damned display that indicated the A.I. had downloaded to God-knows-where.

"What was that?" she called out, when she realized one of the others said something.

"All of the bodies are clean," Doral answered.

Well, that report did _not_ help, and only served to compound her worries.

_What if_...she began to wonder. They _took it_.

"No," she muttered, trying to guide herself out of that train of thought. "No, no, no..." ...and failing miserably.

In perhaps one of the most rare moments of her life, she let her frustration loose on the pedestal next to the terminal, paying little heed to the pain inflicted on her foot. However, she was quick to come to her senses when she thought she heard something eject from the pedestal.

"You have got to be kidding," she whispered to herself as she quickly searched around the pedestal until...

At another place and another time, she might have laughed at the absurdity of her luck. "Found it!" she called, as she picked up the data crystal.

"Good," D'Anna sighed as she returned, along with the other Cylons, and was handed the chip by Cassandra, who felt it was safer in her sister's hands than her own; In a way, the entity it stored was responsible for this disaster.

"I presume the next step is getting off the ship?" Doral said while scrolling through channel after channel of security footage, either filled with static or displaying grim images of futility. "...which at this point seems next to impossible."

"If we tried to get to the hangars, yes," D'Anna agreed. "By now they're likely cut off. However..." she skimmed through several images on the viewscreen before zooming in on the schematic. "This ship is equipped with escape pods. We launch from one of them, the 'Raiders then retrieve us-"

"And then we determine what must be done with this abomination," Four finished.

"Considering what has transpired here," Leoben commented. "What's to be done is already evident. The vote will be unanimous."

Suddenly, everything on the viewscreen disappeared, replaced by big red numbers counting down and a series of klaxons going off.

10:00

9:59

9:58

Below the numbers were the three ultimate words of judgment: Self-Destruct Sequence.

"Correction," said the Four. "There _won't_ be a vote."

"Ten minutes..." Doral said.

"What's the quickest route to a pod?" Cassandra inquired.

"I can't...we've just been locked out of the system," D'Anna answered grimly. "We must have triggered a failsafe."

"We had dozens of e-sheets with the schematics, there's no way we lost them all."

"Deck seven," Doral recalled. "The service tunnel I went through to find that first alien leads to deck seven, which has a life pod bay."

"Where?" D'Anna prompted.

"Just a few passageways from the Mess Hall," Doral answered.

"Let's move."

* * *

**19:04 - Cylon Basestar**

With no word from Natalie or anyone else since her last visit, all Steiner could do was continue to wait. Evidently his hosts' decision to withhold the discovery of the Flood until the last minute blew up in their face.

He was bound to be blamed for it in some way at some point; If the eerie visions he received from the infection forms on the _Zephyr_ were any indication.

He calmed himself as best he could on the bed and focused as much as possible on anything but the _Zephyr_ and its handbasket. Interestingly, it worked to some degree, and the realization produced a strangely familiar chill along his forearms...

* * *

**September 23, 2552 - Installation 04**

' _Almost there...' Steiner kept telling himself as he waded along with Walter through the ungodly misty and lung-raping crap in the air._

_In truth he wasn't so sure anymore, he'd lost track of how far they'd actually gone right around the time his eyes started feeling like they'd pop out in the next minute._

_Why the hell didn't they take the longer and clear route?_

_Oh, that's right: Walter Fullerton._

_Steiner nearly forgot that his acquaintance saw through his charade, let alone the fact if they got out alive, chances were nigh-absolute that he'd out him. At some point between now and then, Steiner would have to enact 'damage control.'_

Damage control turned out to be pretty easy, since the Flood took the initiative and did it for him. Steiner was sure that hurt more than it would have if he killed the soldier himself.

Now it was happening again, some passerbys had come across the results of his mistake, and the Flood were cleaning it up.

Even with the collective experience of countless victims at his disposal, and whatever stunt he pulled to physically relax, there seemed to be no way to bury the creeping feeling of guilt.

All he could do now was hope that these people were more lucky than Walter.

* * *

**19:05**

Activity on the _Zephyr_ was predictably lessening with each passing moment. Despite the Cylons possessing the tactical advantage, it seemed the aliens were close to defeating what was left of their enemy, due in large part to having caught them by surprise in the initial attack.

It dawned on each of the Cylons making their way through the maintenance tunnel that in such a small space, it'd be hard to be caught by surprise, though at the same time they were at a disadvantage. If anything was waiting for them right outside an exit, they'd be bullet fodder.

Not like they had much of a choice in the matter.

Which one of the reasons why Doral briefly wondered if he was tasked with going first just to try to get rid of him. A thought which he quickly shook out of the forefront of his mind, for _he_ certainly wouldn't wish something like this on anyone. Not even the humans.

As he reached the door ahead, it slid open with a whir. He checked left and right before signaling the all-clear and moving forward, rifle at the ready. Simon followed closely behind.

As Leoben, Cassandra and finally D'Anna emerged from the tunnel, the squad discovered a slight blunder: From where they were now, there were two possible directions..

Doral had no clue which one lead to the life pods, and wondered if he'd died for a split-second when D'Anna asked him that very question.

Then he remembered: He'd been here before. He only went one direction, and concluded that considering the circumstances, he had enough information to determine where not to go, because of what he didn't see in the direction he went last time.

Approaching, telltale inhuman roars brought the squad to combat readiness and Doral to the rush decision of leading them to their left.

_Turn around_ , he kept thinking, wishing he could as he kept running forward. _Shoot them._

The squad, overall, was holding their own against the wave of aliens chasing them, as they began exploiting their repetitive swarm tactics. Clusters of the little crawlers exploded when one was shot, and when several luckily-placed shots were fired at the chest cavity, a few of their stolen bodies were easily disabled.

When the reached the next wall, Doral _did_ turn to partake in the fray, chambering the round in his SMG and shooting the closest menace.

He didn't even think about how many more there were, where they came from. Scratch that, he didn't think period, he just kept firing, ducking and firing until there was nothing left to shoot at.  
The squad could already hear another wave rapidly approaching, but they couldn't run any further, due to the obstacle:

A set of large canisters were in the chamber the door was located in, one of which recently caught fire, blocking passage to the door.

The correct door, Doral realized with little relief as the marker on the floor beneath it was an arrow to its direction, with the word "EVAC" below it.

"They shot our exit," Doral said.

"No..." Simon reluctantly corrected. "We did."

_They did?_ Doral thought. And then he remembered: Shooting into the wave, one of the last hosts jumping impossibly far and getting through, everyone taking it down...

Shooting through the corpse into the canister which had subsequently caught fire.

Small hoses erected from the ceiling and began spraying water into the chamber.

"Automated suppression systems," D'Anna thought aloud with relief. "They should be able to-"

Only for the spray to reduce to small spurts before stopping entirely.

"...clear the fire." she finished. "Frak!"

"Wait," she repeated several times as she cautiously searched back along the path the monsters chased them through, on guard for movement, sound, the slightest indication that another alien was present, until she found what, hopefully, she was looking for.

Onto her query, she quickly took appreciation of her surroundings, and took stock in that: there was what appeared to be a first aid kit attached to the wall to her left and next to it, a small, red canister with a small black hose connected to a metal head and trigger. She noticed and skimmed through numerous labels and images before she connected the dots and returned to the now smoke-filling chamber and the burning canister with the extinguisher in hand. The others, while waiting, hadn't wasted a moment: Cassandra and Leoben were attempting to move one of the other crates farther away from the burning one, Simon and Doral were trying to fix the auto-suppression extinguishers, though Doral was more stumbling than helping.

"The Blue wire?" he repeated.

"No," Simon said. "The _yellow_ one."

"Frak it, what's the use?" Doral retorted. "We don't even _know_ if it's a hardware malfunction or..."

He trailed off when he heard the sound of a hose and the sure-fire sound of liquid impacting, and turned to see the flaming canister doused in a slimy substance, and then turned to the source.

"It doesn't seem to matter at this point," D'Anna responded, barely suppressing a grin. "Wouldn't you agree? Let's go."

Despite the fire having clearly been drowned, D'Anna liked to be cautious, and kept an eye on the canister as the others made their way past it and through the door, until she was the only one left.

"Farewell, troublesome heap," she said to the slime-covered crate as she made her way to the door.

Only to be greeted by the sudden closing of said door, and the previously green light turning red.

She slammed on the door once in a mixture of desperation and frustration.

"Sister!" She could hear Cassandra yelling through.

"D'Anna?" Simon followed.

"The door has locked," D'Anna said. "It must think there's still a fire hazard. I can't get through..."

"Leave," she ordered resolutely. "Get to a pod and get out of here."

"D'Anna," Doral countered. "The Construct..."

The Construct.

Oh God. _She_ had it.

"Just go!" She repeated. "I'll find another way out."

"Hopefully..." she added, when she heard another roar...

* * *

**19:10**

"There's not much time left," Leoben urged. "We must leave now."

A roar echoing from the direction they were headed stopped them from outright sprinting to the life pods at that moment. The sound of gunfire momentarily stopped them altogether. Evidently someone else was still alive and fighting.

An explosion sounded over the gunfire. When the squad found the source they saw three Centurions finishing several former Cylons. One of the Centurions was missing an arm, but was still using the other quite liberally. Another Centurion had made use of one of the humans' rocket launchers, while the last was making effective use of a shotgun.

Not wasting a moment, the squad joined what was left of the fight and quickly finished off the attackers.

"We are leaving this vessel via an escape pod," Leoben said to the Centurions. "Your assistance is required for us to reach them. Maintain enemy suppression protocols and cover our rear flank, salvage enemy munitions, if necessary."

The shotgun-wielding Centurion beeped in acknowledgement before making its way to the pacified corpses to acquire additional shells. The rocket toting Centurion somehow acquired more rockets, and the one-armed Centurion...was stuck with its remaining machine gun.

With their newly acquired reinforcements, the squad advanced once more to the life pods at a brisk pace, encountering less resistance now than anticipated. Possibly they managed to thin out the enemy to a point where they were forced to regroup.

"Sixty seconds!" Doral called out. "Right through here!"

"Frak!" Doral swore as he nearly soaked a barrage of bullets from an oncoming wave in the pod bay. Taking cover and chucking his last grenade inside, the Centurions moved in and quickly disposed of the remnants.

"Forty-five seconds..." Doral said as he opened the panel into the closest pod. "Move!"

"There's not enough room for the Centurions," Simon noted.

"Then they're not coming," Doral stated plainly.

"Wait," Cassandra interjected. "Where's Leoben?"

"All three of you get in, now." They heard the whirring of the Centurions as they managed to squeeze their way into an adjacent pod.

"It would appear that two birds have been killed with one stone," Simon answered.

Doral couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Twos," he muttered condescendingly.

* * *

After getting the panel open, D'Anna did another quick survey of her immediate surroundings before stepping inside.

Settling herself into the cockpit, she laid her rifle to the side and quickly prayed she'd be familiar enough with the controls to launch the damn thing.

"Door...sealed. Primary thrust... good. Interval...check."

She must've done all the safety checks correctly, if the touch-screen panel displaying "Launch when ready" was anything to go by. A simple tap to the green circle on the top left did just that.

She felt the pod rock as it launched, and despite the harness, kept herself braced until both the pod and herself had settled.

When she managed to figure out how to, she opened a channel to the Basestar. "This is D'Anna Biers. I've launched from the _Bolt of Zephyr_ in an emergency life pod. Assistance required at-"

She came to a stop and reached for her rifle when she heard a nearing, skittering sound from _inside_ the pod.

* * *

"Brace for launch," Doral warned, quickly following with a sudden rocking of the pod as it disengaged.

"We're clearing... and it looks like Heavy Raiders are already looking for us. Uploading coordinates..."

Doral looked down at the countdown timer. _Ten seconds_

_Nine. Eight. Seven-_

"What was that?" Leoben inquired when the inhabitants of the pod saw a sudden flash of light. A hint of worry was evident in his tone.

Doral had to glance out of the right angle of the windshield to see what had taken place of the flash of light: A Cylon Fuel Tanker.

The tanker that was supposed to refuel their task force.

"Oh no..." Doral whispered.

_Five._

_Four._

Suddenly the pod jerked and a Heavy Raider passed them, tow cable connected.

_Three._

The pod jerked once more as the Raider floored the thrusters, moving itself and the pod away from the two ships.

_Two._

_One._

They could barely make out the light of the explosion. They must have _just_ reached minimum safe distance when the _Zephyr_ detonated.

"Great..." Doral muttered when the Basestar's hangar deck was within sight. "Brace for a rough landing..."

The Raider disconnected the tow cable a second before impact, though it suffered nearly as rough a landing as the pod.

The impact heavily rocked and rattled the pod, and the inhabitants might have been tossed around were they not buckled in.

When they came to, the pod door was opened, and they were greeted by an Eight, a Six, and two Centurions. The Six warned them not to depart from the pod just yet, as they were preparing decontamination and quarantine procedures.

When ready, the Eight and Six instructed them to depart the pod, one individual at a time. Simon went first, followed next by Cassandra and Doral.

To their far left they could see Leoben and the Centurions were almost through the decon process, as was D'Anna, to their right

She carried a repulsive expression on her face and was intent on keeping her face as far from her hands as possible for whatever reason...

_What is that?_ Doral thought when he saw some sort of goo covering said hands.

"I suspect that even after this," D'Anna said. "I will need four or five hot showers just to remove this _stench_."

* * *


	7. Roll the Dice Carefully...

Roll the Dice Carefully...

Activity in the CIC of the Baseship became even more hectic than before as they became aware that the _Zephyr_ 's self-destruct sequence had initiated and the crew directed the Hybrid to move the Baseship to a safe distance.

"New contacts coming from the ship!" one of the Eights said. Seconds after the detection, a Three's voice sounded over the wireless.

"This is D'Anna Biers. I've launched from the _Bolt of Zephyr_ in an escape pod. Assistance requested at..."

The occupants of the CIC were alarmed by the sudden silence and the barely audible skittering sound in the background, which was quickly followed by a gunshot.

"Other pods have launched," she said a moment later. "Send SAR Heavy Raiders to retrieve us."

"Raiders en route," the Eight confirmed. "What happened over there?"

"Stray alien I had to squash." was the reply. "Not sure what I got on my hands as the result, but it _reeks_..."

"New contact!" A Six interrupted.

"It's the fuel tanker scheduled-" said Natalie. "...but it's jumped right on top of the _Zephyr_! Order it to jump out _now_!"

It almost did, but just when the space fold was formed, the _Zephyr_ had already detonated, enveloping the tanker in the explosion, causing a reaction from the tylium within.

Natalie lowered her head as the gravity of the situation sunk in: Without the tanker, the local Cylon task-force would be rather short on fuel, and may not have enough to return to the main fleet. Without the Resurrection ship, the casualties on the _Zephyr_ were permanent. All because of an alien threat that they weren't even sure yet was averted!

She slammed on her data panel, splashing a bit of water out of the font and startling the Cylons around her.

"All pods have been retrieved," reported the Eight, after recovering from the outburst.

"Instruct the Heavy Raiders to bring the pods to Hangar Bay one," ordered Natalie, as she was exiting the CIC, she glanced back with ire in her eyes. "Full decontamination and quarantine protocols."

* * *

When the feeling of that 'presence' suddenly became an absence, Steiner had no illusions about the situation he was in now. If not handled properly, today could very well be the last day of his short life.

Which meant it didn't come as a surprise to him when he heard fast, angry footsteps drawing near.

Natalie Faust rushed in to find Steiner sitting at the edge of the bed in wait, evidently having expected her arrival. He gestured to the e-sheet which lay next to him.

"You left this," he tried to state nonchalantly, but his tone ever so slightly hinted how the woman intimidated him.

"Choose your words carefully, or they will be your last."

If the Six didn't have his full attention before, she did now. "Duly noted," he answered.

"Did you know they were there?" she 'asked.'

"You'll need to be more specific," answered Steiner.

"The _Bolt of Zephyr_ has been destroyed," she began. "We were ambushed from within, by _those_ things," she pointed to the Infection Form on the e-sheet beside him.

"There were many more than the one we found in _your_ quarters, somehow an entire hive that managed to hide for days."

"I take it that means you've already debriefed any survivors," Steiner surmised. "You should know however that it is unlikely that they 'hid.' It can take less than half a day for a hive to form. Your crew could have searched the ship top to bottom and never found such a thing in the first sweep."

"You seem to know an awful lot about them," Natalie said, with growing ire in her voice.

"And yet you never sought to learn that before, even when I _mentioned_ it during my examination _._ Some 'black ops' force you are-"

Steiner would swear that not even a _heartbeat_ had passed when he felt a hand on his throat, lifting him up an inch. Despite the strong grip, she had evidently adjusted to avoid completely constricting his airways.

"No more games," she promised. "You've certainly earned that much after the lives lost on that wreck."

"You have my condolences for the casualties..." Steiner insisted. "...but if you're searching for someone to blame, you're looking in the wrong direction."

"Would the _Zephyr_ 's crew have attested to that?"

The implication behind the woman's jab angered Steiner. "I guess you'll never know," he shot back.

The grip around his throat was now definitely constricting his airway.

"Sister, stay your hand!"

Her grip loosened, and when Natalie turned to face the intruder Steiner caught sight of her as well.

"What...?" Steiner whispered in confusion.

It was Natalie. Except...it wasn't. Natalie was still holding him by the throat, while this look-alike had platinum blonde hair...

"We are convening to ascertain the use of the materials salvaged, and decide his fate," Ms. Platinum informed.

"You _aren't_..." Steiner affirmed as he looked between the 'twins' and the Centurion guard, and put two-and-two together.

Natalie turned back to him, looking like she was about to say something, but evidently deciding against it, she released him, leaving him to catch himself of his own equilibrium.

When he looked back to where his visitors had been, there was only the Centurion.

"So..." he said to the guard. "I take it you'll be my executioner if I am sentenced?"

The silence was his answer.

"Nice talking to you."

As he sat at the bed where he was before the altercation, Steiner found himself fascinated by the turn of events, despite, or perhaps in spite of the danger. While he certainly expected his hosts weren't UNSC, _this_ was an unanticipated variable.

* * *

_The digger begins the tightrope walk, fighting the gale brought by cosmic imperatives. Core reboot imminent. Biological laws favor but attrition is unwieldy. Casting the universal stone casts the questioning answers; the rogue star burns once again. End of line._

* * *

"The destruction of the human ship is unfortunate, but it was not a significant loss," said the One present in this meeting. "Given all that we've salvaged."

_Yeah, "we"_ , D'Anna thought. "I'm sure our lost brethren would wholeheartedly agree," she said instead.

"Did any of them download before the Resurrection ship was ordered to retreat?" inquired the Six.

"No," Simon affirmed. "Unfortunately that means we have no way of determining whether the Parasite could be downloaded like the beacon-virus."

"After what I saw there," the Eight spoke up. "We won't want to find out."

"We concur," the Four responded. "This lifeform poses too great a threat for study. The pods and ships that departed from the _Zephyr_ must be searched for any remaining traces of the organisms. We'll purge them upon discovery."

"You might as well just eject the ships and destroy them."

"That would be too cost-prohibitive," D'Anna interjected. "We'd lose over half of our Heavy Raider complement."

"As well as those 'Pelicans' and the 'Phantom,'" the Five added. "What about the rest of the equipment we recovered?"

"Technology is another matter," Simon answered. "While overall inferior to our own, these humans made noteworthy achievements. I recommend we begin testing the weapons we found and replicate them if possible."

"These tests should extend to the recovered aircrafts as well," Doral added.

"While a significant amount of information was lost on the derelict," the Two finally spoke. "We believe more can be learned of these humans from what remains. We should all analyze the recovered logs and texts, perhaps they could give us a clue as to Earth's location."

_Good luck with that..._ the Eight thought.

"I understand there was another crucial piece of technology we procured," the One said.

"The _Zephyr's_ Artificial Intelligence," D'Anna confirmed, as she paused in twirling the small chip that was between her fingers. "It downloaded itself into this storage unit after the self-destruct sequence was triggered."

"Does it have anything about Earth?" the One pressed.

"Unfortunately it seems the Intelligence was damaged before we arrived," the Eight answered. "We didn't even know it was aboard until shortly before the aliens were discovered, communication with it seems nigh-impossible."

"Then why do you sound hopeful, Eight?" the One noted.

"If we can connect it to the Hybrid, maybe she could disseminate what's left of it."

Murmurs of approval swiftly filled the room.

"Which just leaves the matter of the human aboard this ship," announced Doral.

Cavil found his interest level in a flux whenever _he_ was brought up. "What _about_ him?"

"His usefulness is now in question," Natalie answered simply.

Now Cavil was _very_ interested, if Steiner's own overseer supported his predetermined outcome for the nuisance.

D'Anna seemed to have taken interest in the Six's judgment as well. "I've never noticed such a venomous tone from you, Six, however subtle it is. What's the basis for this outlook?"

"I have reason to believe he was aware of the alien presence aboard the human warship, despite his vehement denial," she explained. "Before we even learned of the attack, he indicated his prior experience with the creatures, and before then, when we found the tissue anomalies in his blood."

"You actually believe that kid orchestrated a surprise attack?" Doral said incredulously.

"Perhaps not specifically against _us_ ," Natalie conceded. "However, given how little we still know about him or where he came from, it is reasonable to consider such a motive."

"Speculation," D'Anna argued. "Likely unfounded. The logs we examined before the attack suggested a mutiny."

"A mutiny he may have had a hand in!" Natalie emphasized.

"The implication that this human is somehow tied to the attack..." Cavil added. "...compounds the likelihood of the threat his continued presence poses."

"Only as long as our knowledge of him remains as limited as it is," D'Anna interjected. "We have the opportunity to learn from him what we can't from the ship, or this A.I."

"A...I..." Doral muttered.

"As I was saying," D'Anna continued. "We know very little now, but that can change, if we have Steiner's cooperation."

"And how do you propose we acquire that?" Natalie jabbed. "Given that he knows we're not who we claimed to be."

There was a moment of silence as D'Anna pondered the effects of this revelation. "Actually," she deduced. "That should ease our efforts, if only slightly. Just as Dr. Baltar has so far proven his usefulness to us, so may Steiner."

"How foolishly optimistic," Natalie muttered. "How do you intend to garner that cooperation?"

"I _won't_ start by nearly killing him." the Three retorted. "Actually, I should thank you for that, now the duty falls to me to feed him the carrot."

The suggestion produced murmurs of concern, approval and disgust, which dissipated into silence when the Cylons realized that all but Cavil had spoken.

Said One was masking his frustration over the turn of events with a feigned disinterest. "Fine. Proceed."

* * *

Since the first models were awakened, there was a general consensus that the Hybrid was aware of everything aboard the Basestar. Therefore, it came as no surprise to the geek squad of Eights that her rambling turned into less metaphysics and more data analysis, likely in response to their presence.

After agreeing to save the Artificial Intelligence for last due to the potential security risk, the Eights began their task of compiling sensor data from the recovered Phantom and the Pelicans, in the hopes of tracing Steiner's path pre- _Bolt of Zephyr_ , or any clue as to Earth's location.

As expected, the navigational logs in the Pelicans were as empty as the banks of the _Zephyr_. The alien transport ship, on the other hand, still retained a fragment of its navigational data, verifying that the _Zephyr_ found and boarded it. Conveniently, though, there was no record of where the ship came from. Given recent events, the team was lead to believe Steiner erased the data.

* * *

Having been assigned to the analyses of weapons and other defense tech, Doral had quite a bit on his plate. After prioritizing tasks by level of simplicity, he and his team of Fives and Fours began with the small-arms first.

These parts of the study, the live-fire tests, were something he found he enjoyed most, mainly because every time he fired at the head of an inactive Centurion, he envisioned some measly human who more than likely deserved it.

Although, after the close call on the _Bolt of Zephyr_ , his imaginary humans were quickly being replaced by mutant zombies. Somewhere in a dark corner of the Five's mind was a silent reminder that he was expending more ammunition than necessary.

After emptying the clip of the 'M6D' magnum, he finally stopped to record results, charting both comparisons between it and the Colonial 'Clamshell' magnum as well as the Five-Seven.

His final addition to the report noted that the UNSC munitions were remarkably similar to Colonial technology, yet significantly improved.

* * *

Kyle savored the cool sensation of the water splashed on his face. It was a pleasant distraction from the heated confrontation with Ms. Faust, which more than likely put him in a negative light.

When he opened his eyes, he just barely noticed something in his reflection. He peered closer to the simpleton mirror, and found that for the first time since his encounter with the _Zephyr_ , his irises were their perfectly normal hazel.

_Well hopefully that's a good sign_ , he thought, as he began checking his pearly-whites, his jaw, his collarbone, his ears, any place that might hide _some_ kind of anomaly he might have missed before and wasn't already aware of. Just like the previous times, he found nothing.

Stepping back to allow himself a little room, he started brushing his teeth with the 'Felgerkarb,' inwardly criticizing whoever labeled their toothpaste brand with that name.

When that was done, he finished drying off and changed into a grey-white dress shirt and fitting shorts.

Then came the obstacle of opening the door, which he had yet figure out, at least from the inside of the facilities. It took long enough to figure out that one of the light squares was a touch panel. Certainly it must've worked the same way...

With each failed attempt his stream of muttered curses raised in decibel, until the door opened, startling Steiner with yet another visitor.

It certainly wasn't Ms. Faust, though she appeared just as intimidating.

"To what do I owe the visit?" he greeted curtly.

"Sit," she ordered. Steiner easily noticed the 'fuck around and you're dead' tone and quickly complied.

"You've made quite a resumé for yourself in such a short time," the woman stated. "Hitching a ride on a lost warship, bringing an extremely virulent organism along, and endangering our crew to the same fate as the _Zephyr_ personnel."

"I didn't-" Steiner started, but quickly shut up in response to the clear warning implicated by her ice cold glare. The way she started circling the bed didn't do anything to lessen the tinge of trepidation creeping up through his chest.

"Natalie Faust informed me of your proclamations of innocence," she continued. "You should know that a number of personnel files and logs were recovered from the warship and a number of them point to the contrary."

"Now," she stabbed. "What would be your defense against that?"

Steiner realized his response was likely to determine his fate. "If you're fortunate, they'll tell at the most _half_ of what you could know."

Based upon the subtle movements of her eyebrows, Steiner hypothesized that somewhere along the line he gave her the answer she wanted. "Half..." she repeated. "That's a rather generous amount, given what we _didn't_ know beforehand."

"Generous..." Steiner emphasized. "...but obviously not enough for you, or this conversation wouldn't be happening."

"So certain of that, are you?"

"I know that I've been a prisoner here for almost a week, and despite an interesting revelation of your nature, not to mention the crisis that you insist on blaming _me_ for, you have yet to off me. You want something."

By this point, the circling ceased. "Your cooperation, for one," she waved. "The others seem quite certain this will not be achieved."

_Well, now,_ Steiner thought as he ran his nails through his hair. _Isn't this interesting?_

"Maybe," he answered. "Though, you have yet to mention what requires my cooperation."

The woman let silence briefly fill the room before she answered. "The destruction of the _Zephyr_ inadvertently created a problem for us. A tanker that was scheduled to refuel our ships was lost in the explosion. Our ships would be empty by the time the next one arrived. As a consequence, we are forced to search for other sources."

_And that's where I come in?_ Steiner thought incredulously. "Since boarding the _Zephyr_ , I've had no idea of where it's gone, so unless I saw at least a star chart of some sort, won't be of much help there."

The woman's eyes lit at the response. "That's a yes?"

Steiner leaned forward. "Get me a chart, and I'll find a fuel source, and if not that, then a route to wherever there might be one minus surprises like the one 'I' endangered you with."

Her attention briefly drifted off, she gave a miniscule nod, and then began making her way out. "Good. We'll talk again later."

"Until later then, Ms..."

"Biers," the Three answered without looking back.

* * *

_Harvest: The Fall and Rise, Murder at Hayward Shore, Nineteen Eighty-Four, three Lord of the Rings books, Hamlet_...

It didn't take long for Leoben to discover that the captain of the _Bolt of Zephyr_ had more fiction than any other texts, but the one discovery he considered a personal achievement was that of the Bible. From it, he discovered that these humans shared the Cylons' monotheistic belief.

As he memorized the Ten commandments, he wondered what else they might share...

* * *

Soon after Ms. Biers' generous offer, Steiner found his bed-space occupied by dozens of e-sheets. Most of them were the star charts he requested, while the others comprised of the fuel and elements used, mining and refining processes, UNSC inventory, which was being updated periodically.

The hard part of his task was cross-referencing the star charts and Covenant Fleet deployments, which there was no e-sheet of.

Steiner paused in the middle of skimming through the fifth chart as the realization dawned upon him. How the hell does he know anything about Fleet deployment patterns or anything about this region of space? Is it-?

_Later_ , he decided as he locked that thought out and continued his examination of the charts.

"Hello..." he said with newfound interest. "...what have we here?"


	8. Black Gold...

Black Gold...

* * *

**Basestar** **Two** **of** **Five** **,** **Battlegroup** **47**

**October** **15, 2552**

**07:00**

Nearly two hours after _thoroughly_ confirming Kyle's discovery, D'Anna swiftly made her way to Kyle's quarters, e-sheet in hand, with an Eight accompanying her.

As she drew closer to the entryway she slowed her pace, having caught the sound of some grunts and swipes of air...

She walked in just in time to see Kyle, having staggered his phantom opponent, knock him off his feet with a spin kick, and then finish him off with a blow to the head. Noticing his guests' arrival, he made a showy bow.

"Training?" D'Anna guessed.

Kyle, with a nonchalant raise of his eyebrow, answered, "More of a hobby and a productive means of passing time..." He paused momentarily to take in the presence of D'Anna's compatriot. "I take it you're here about my data. Satisfactory?"

"Maybe," D'Anna answered cryptically. "Raiders confirmed that the planet you marked contains rich tylium deposits."

"I should certainly hope so," Kyle retorted, as he grabbed a towel from the open restroom. "For my sake..."

"The planet is habitable," Eight reported. "Though not exactly hospitable."

"Given how badly you need this fuel," Kyle noted. "It doesn't sound like that's about to stop you. So what _is_ the problem?"

"When you first delivered your report," D'Anna explained. "You mentioned the possibility of Covenant activity."

Kyle sighed, taking a swig of water from the bottle on the nightstand as he figured out the rest of the answer himself. "You want me to tell you whether or not it's significant enough to warrant searching elsewhere?"

The lack of an answer was answer enough for Kyle, who continued. "I would, if I knew for sure."

"Why don't you?" inquired the Eight.

Kyle opened his mouth, ready to answer, but sighed and shook his head in resignation. "It's not something I can explain. I don't have all the details. I only know that there is risk to be found."

"Like you 'just knew' there was tylium on this planet," the asian woman insinuated.

"Which turned out to be true, didn't it?" Kyle quipped.

"You've made your point," D'Anna answered, her tone indicating the discussion was over. "We'll just have to see if you are as dependable as you claim." She gestured to the Centurion as she was leaving. "Take him to the hangar."

"Wait, what?" Kyle kept looking from Biers to the Asian...woman and to the approaching Centurion in confusion and worry. Didn't he give them what they wanted?

"Oh, don't worry," the asian taunted. "I'm sure you'll 'just know' what's about to happen."

"Do _you_?!" Kyle shot back as the Centurion forcefully guided him out of his cell.

* * *

"Okay, look..." a hamstrung Kyle protested. "I've stopped pulling and thrashing, you can at the very least loosen your grip. For God's sake, you're cutting off circulation!"

His escort either did not hear him, could not understand or paid no heed as it continued to drag him to his uncontested fate.

The locomotive tank came to a halt, but it's...hand was still tightly secured around Steiner's arm.

"Okay, this is progress, now could you- _we_ please go the _other_ way?" he practically begged.

"No, you may not."

Startled by the answer, Kyle looked to find Natalie towering over him. "Oh," he said meekly. "Um...hi."

Natalie Faust did not answer, instead turning to the Centurion. "Release him," she ordered.

Kyle grunted in relief when the death grip was gone. He dropped to the floor in a heap; clearly Natalie didn't care to offer any leverage.

"Your task is complete," she continued, glaring with distaste. "Return to your post."

She waited as he rose and carefully tested his arm. "Complete?" Kyle repeated. "So where's the hangar?"

_Okay_ _,_ he thought as he saw the ire hadn't left her eyes. _Still_ _pissed_ _._

"This way."

"So...why'd you relieve him?" Kyle asked as he followed her through the hall.

"I needed to finish this task myself," Natalie answered briefly.

Kyle raised his eyebrows. "That task being?"

"You'll know when you're there. Be silent."

Kyle figured it'd be better to take the warning seriously, and finished with a simple "Got it."

His mind, on the other hand, was quite active as he noticed with confusion that many of the passages on the ship looked identical. As well as the...somewhat varied crew of the ship. _How_ _do_ _you_ _find_ _your_ _way_ _around_ _?_ he wondered. _Or_ _tell_ _each_ _other_ _apart_ _?_

"You know what you need to for the time being," Natalie responded, evidently having noticed his exploring eyes.

_Shit_ _,_ Kyle cursed his own internal wanderings, giving a silent, swift nod of acknowledgment.

Steiner came to an immediate halt when he heard a screeching sound that seemed to be emanating from...everywhere.

Natalie, having noticed his absence moments after, returned and took a firm hold of his arm. "Hold still," she commanded. He obeyed, even if he wasn't sure why-

He was caught by surprise when an immense wave of nausea seemed to wash over him, then pass as swiftly as it arrived. The strange noise also silenced thereafter.

"What the hell was _that_?!" he yelled accidentally, still overcome by the malaise induced by the jump.

"We've arrived," she answered flatly, releasing Kyle and resuming the trek to the hangar.

"Arrived?" He repeated, but she did not elaborate. He then remembered her warning about not staying silent-

_Am_ _I_ not _being_ _executed_ _?_ he wondered. _Wait_ _..._ _was_ _that_ _...?_

Deep in thought, Steiner was startled once more when Faust grabbed him and pulled him with her into what looked like an elevator.

At least that's what Kyle thought it was. The sight of thethe organic looking material revived a startling memory, when he saw the extent of the Flood Infestation, back at-

Kyle quickly dashed that thought aside as the elevator made contact with a floor. When he stepped out, he could only observe with awe:

While the surface he stood on was solid, metallic, to his left and right were more of the organic, membranous material akin to what he saw in the elevator, which covered the walls as well as the floor. In addition, he felt a strangely constant breeze that seemed to stop and repeat regularly, almost like...

_Breathing_ _,_ he realized. _This_ _ship_ _is_ _alive_ _?_

"Incredible," he thought aloud.

"The time for sightseeing is over," Natalie interrupted. "We will begin atmospheric descent momentarily."

That was the last piece Kyle needed to assemble his puzzle: He was to participate in this operation.

_Well_ _at_ _least_ _it_ _beats_ _the_ _hell_ _out_ _of_ _being_ _airlocked_ _._

"Once descent is complete," she explained as turbulence began rocking the ship. "You will have half an hour to familiarize yourself with the Heavy Raider and the equipment you will need. My sister..." she pointed to a twin tending to what looked like a dropship. "...will guide you to the supply cache. You will deploy with her squad to the surface, whereupon we will rendezvous and prioritize the deposits that will be mined."

"Understood. Thank you." he called out as she walked away, though nothing in her movement suggested any acknowledgement.

Of course she had to leave right when he had a million questions to ask. Hopefully the 'sister' would be more helpful, not to mention less likely to murder him on the spot...

_Only_ _one_ _way_ _to_ _find_ _out_ , he realized as he navigated his way toward the platinum Blonde working on the ship, dodging Centurions, scattered parts, other Blondes, Asians, suit-loving businessmen and mad scientists.

When he finally reached her, he found her crouched by the side of...what he presumed to be a thruster, tinkering with something underneath. Clearing his throat audibly, she turned to look up at him.

"Kyle Steiner?" He nodded in confirmation, offering his hand. She responded instead by handing him an e-sheet, provoking a momentary sullen expression.

"Geological survey," she explained. "In order to prioritize the tylium deposits."

Kyle shook his head in frustration. It was apparently going to take a while before it became clear to people on this ship that he was _not_ all-knowing, for better or worse. "And, what exactly am I supposed to be doing with this?"

Wrong response apparently, as she closed the distance between them. "Do as you're told, it's _that_ simple." She pointed to a nearby Centurion as she said 'that.'

Kyle raised his eyebrows in recognition. It seemed this woman was another Faust. "Okay. Easy to remember."

"It better be. No one is going to hold your hand here, especially after your deception."

_Deception_ _?_ he thought. _The_ _Zephyr_ , he realized. This woman must have been one of the survivors. Which prompted the question...

"Are you making this personal?" he began. "I'll have you know that I deceived _no_ _one_. Perhaps if I had been warned about the Flood

it could've all been avoided. Thank you, though, for making it clear where I stand."

Steiner was taken aback by the increased volume of his response. His embarrassment was augmented when he noticed several other people in the hangar had looked in his direction. After they resumed their tasks, his composure slowly returned.

The blonde looked him over twice before her expression slightly softened. "We have about thirty minutes before departure, you need to assemble your gear. Follow me." Kyle nodded.

"So what exactly is your job?" Kyle asked as he followed her through _another_ maze.

"At the moment, I'm a mechanic for the Heavy Raider you'll be riding in to the surface," she answered.

"At the moment?" Kyle repeated curiously.

"Once we're at the surface," the Six explained. "I will be joining the miners."

"That is an interesting variety of skills," Kyle noted, checking his watch. Twenty minutes to departure. "What's your name?"

"I neither have one nor need one."

"Really?" Kyle said skeptically. "You'd think with all the other...yous around you'd have _some_ way to tell each other apart."

"We do."

"So..." Kyle started after the woman refused to explain further. "What _can_ I call you?"

"There are twelve models. I'm Number Six."

Kyle raised his eyebrows in a blend of frustration and surprise. "Nice to meet you...Number Six..."

"We have spoken long enough. I am not in need of a friend, stop trying to be one."

Finally taking the hint, Kyle quieted and checked his watch again. Seventeen minutes left.

A few more turns right and left until Kyle eventually lost his sense of direction, they had reached their destination. Evidently the Cylons kept their exploratory gear in the same place as their weapons: The armory.

"Huh..." Kyle mumbled as he examined one of the suit pieces, what looked to be a combat vest. _Not_ _sure_ _what_ _good_ these _will_ _be_ _against_ _plasma_ _,_ _but_ _it_ _'_ _ll_ _have_ _to_ _do_ _,_ _it_ _seems_ _._

"Ever used one of these?"

He turned to see the woman handing him a gun.

"Yes...but..." Kyle started. "Isn't it a bit presumptuous to trust an enemy with such equipment?"

"Some of us objected to it as well," the Six admitted. "D'Anna and the majority believed it would be more costly if you were left unarmed."

"I see," Kyle said, examining the pistol top to bottom.

"G-23 Clamshell magnum," the Six stated. Kyle gave her an incredulous look at the word 'clamshell.'

She also handed him a fresh set of clothes, what almost looked like a simple, skin tight uniform. "Don't keep me waiting," she warned as she walked away to a different section of the armory, grabbing this and that if the sounds he was hearing were any indication. This armory was nearly as much a maze as the corridors he traversed to get here.

"Wow," Kyle sighed as he took everything in. "Okay then...nice to see they got the size right." After undressing down to his briefs, he momentarily paused as he took in the protruding hips of his physique. It seemed that despite the ample amount of food he'd eaten since his arrival on this ship, his body had yet to completely recover from the damage caused by his previously unstable metabolism. He realized it could've been much worse in retrospect; Given how long he'd gone without nourishment after the deaths of the _Zephyr_ crew, he was in pretty good shape.

The first thing he immediately noticed about the replacement clothing, mainly the coveralls and footwear, was that it was more suited to cave exploration than mining or other strenuous manual labor, with their reflective strips. He had his father to thank for that bit of knowledge.

_Only_ _thing_ _I_ _have_ _to_ _worry_ _about_ _now_ , he thought as he was changing. _Is_ _whether_ _or_ _not_ _I_ _get_ _the_ _damn_ _vest_ _on_ _properly_ _..._

It wasn't quite as difficult as he expected, as the application was not altogether different from the UNSC's standard issue combat armor. Assuming, of course, that the armor of the _Autumn_ 's Marines was in fact standard issue...

As soon as he finished with the vest and presented himself as ready, the Six gestured for him to turn around, and then strapped on a backpack. Not a moment later was said backpack was being filled with a _lot_ of heavy things.

_Welcome_ _to_ _boot_ _camp_ , Steiner thought, as the Six continued adding weight to the backpack. He wondered if he'd even be able to make it to the dropship in time for departure.

"So what all is in here?" he asked when it seemed the packing was complete.

"Food and medical rations, flares, glow sticks, buoy markers, heavy-duty flashlights..."

"I hope we're not missing anything..." Kyle whispered to himself, barely masking his frustrated tone. He honest-to-God hoped he would _not_ have to make a return trip...

* * *

**07:36**

Ultimately, he ended up boarding the Heavy Raider as scheduled, with ten of the human-like androids, including the pilot, and two arm-twisting Centurions. Four identical Sixes, Kyle was still in the dark about how they tell each other apart. One Eight, who was piloting the Heavy Raider, Two Number Fives, who gave Steiner a totally different impression than the suit wearing stoics he saw on the Baseship, if the hand shaking wasn't an indication of difference of opinion. One of the Number Twos, who at the moment looked more like a battle-hardened veteran than any spiritual stargazer. A Number Four, who didn't seem to be any different from Kyle's doctor and was likely the team's scientist and field medic.

Last, but not least, was a D'Anna copy with a mane of raven hair, who had been introduced to Kyle as Cassandra Dawson. It had been interesting to meet another Cylon who actually had a name.

"The Baseship will remain in-atmosphere for the tylium extraction." Cassandra briefed. "We don't want to overstay our welcome. Get in, mine the ore we can, get out before anyone gets curious. We'll worry about refining it after we've departed."

"Cross your fingers that no one bothers to look our way," Kyle responded.

"Just how well do you know the Covenant?" One of the Fives asked.

"I doubt I can tell you anything you don't already know at this point," Kyle dodged.

"You've had personal experience," a Two reminded, making Kyle slightly falter, as he quickly practiced the acceptable answers in his mind before speaking.

"Sure, I've already seen them more times than I'd like," he admitted. "First time was at my home planet, Reach."

"What happened?" said the Two.

"They destroyed it," Kyle answered simply. "I obviously got out alive, but a lot of people didn't."

"LZ in sight!" the pilot announced, abruptly ending all chatter. "Touchdown in ten!"

"Stake your claims," Cassandra said as she fiddled with her datapad. "They'll want a report on all operations within the next six hours."

"Six hours..." Kyle repeated as he input an alert on his watch. "...mark."

"Go, go, go!" the pilot prompted. Kyle took that as his cue to disembark.

"Remain seated," Cassandra instructed when he rose to join the Cylons exiting the transport. Confused by the order, he nevertheless complied, wondering now if he actually knew why he was here.

When the Heavy Raider took flight once more, Cassandra, the pair of Fives, the Two, the Four, the piloting Eight and the Centurions remained.

"I was under the impression I'd be joining the miners," Kyle said.

"There are more productive uses for your...intuitive intelligence." said Cassandra.

"Like?" Kyle asked, and was subsequently handed Cassandra's crystalline datapad.

"When our Raider patrols swept the planet, they found _this_." She explained, as he observed a three-dimensional map, displaying what looked to be the inroads of a large cavern. Something about the formation was...off.

"Doesn't look natural," he thought aloud.

"Exactly," Cassandra concurred. "Which is why we are investigating."

"You think there's something in there besides tylium..." Kyle assumed. "...and you're bringing me along in case it's something I can shed some insight on."

Now he understood why he had cave-exploratory gear. "Well...thanks for the gun."

"Expecting trouble?" said the Two.

"When it comes to deep, dark unexplored caves, who _wouldn_ _'_ _t_ expect trouble?"

"Entrance in sight, touch-down in ten seconds!" The Eight relayed.

The announcement prompted the two Fives and the Number Two to check their rifles, Cassandra checking her sidearm. The Four paid no heed to his armaments, instead making sure his other tools were secure. The crew soon felt the sudden impact of the landing, jarring them, sending Kyle to the floor. "Crap," he muttered, trying to rise with little success thanks to the gear and supplies. He saw a metal hand on his periphery, moving to grab his arm, and lifting him with ease. He looked up and came face to face with the red-eye of a Centurion. The gesture of assistance had been unexpected, certainly more than he'd expected from the machine. Clearly they didn't _just_ follow orders.

"Uh..." he said awkwardly. "...thanks." The Centurion paid no heed to his gratitude, resuming its previous function, which as far as Kyle could tell was to stare blankly into space.

"Clear! Hit it!" the pilot ordered. The first to exit were the pair of Centurions, who took point, followed by the two Number Fives, the Two, the Four and Cassandra. Kyle followed suit after Cassandra.

Enraptured by the surroundings, Kyle had tuned out the voices of his Cylon comrades. The local environment was mostly dead, arid, covered in sand. Plant life was sparse. It was no wonder the Covenant had no interest in claiming this planet. Hopefully that meant they wouldn't be coming anytime soon.

The most annoying quality of this planet he had come to quickly discover was its gravity. While Kyle didn't consider himself melodramatic, he felt like if he got any heavier he might fall through the rocky surface. Interestingly enough, the others didn't show any disorientation or other negative reaction to the change as he did.

"...What about the entrance itself?" Cassandra said, aiming towards the cavern entrance. The question drew him out of his musings, directing his attention to her and the Eight standing on the ramp of the Heavy Raider.

"Sensus scans aren't finding any traps or nocturnal critters," the Eight reported. "No active power emanations aside from the one the Raiders found. Whatever's in there couldn't be more alive than the sand."

"Unless it's otherwise masking itself from scanners," Kyle remarked. The statement drew all eyes to him. "Just a thought," he added. "I've seen it happen before."

"Point taken," Cassandra decided. "We'll attempt to maintain wireless contact. Keep an eye on the sky."

"Wilco," the Eight acknowledged, as she left to take the Heavy Raider into flight once more. "Rendezvous in six hours."

"That looks like a long way down," Steiner thought aloud as he saw the chasm below.

"Then down we're going. Your bag," Cassandra ordered. Kyle put it down and opened it, then stepped aside as she removed several hooks from within, placing them along the crevice.

_Rappelling_ _down_ _?_ Kyle realized. _I_ _hope_ _we_ _'_ _ll_ _have_ _enough_ _rope_ _by_ _the_ _end_ _of_ _it_ _._

He silently thanked his Dad for the prior experience as he applied the buckle of the cable-end to the belt on his uniform, checked his flashlight and weapon. _Check_ _equipment_ _,_ _spares_ _._ _Batteries_ _,_ _flares_ _,_ _water_ _._ _Watch_ _for_ _indigenous_ _life_ _._ _Leave_ _nothing_ _but_ _footprints_ _._ _Avoid_ _even_ _that_ _,_ _if_ _possible_ _._

Kyle repeated the steps in his head as though he were exploring with his father once again. Looking to make sure there isn't a Guta using the cave as a lair...

"Um," He was taken out of his reverie as he realized the predicament their mechanical compatriots faced. "How are _they_ getting down?"

"You'll see," was Cassandra's only answer as she connected her rappel cord to the hook, Kyle and the Cylons following suit. Then, on her lead, they jumped.

The first leap through the crevice, Kyle's body neared the wall behind him. He was ready for it; His feet met the approaching wall and he leaped again. Upon hearing the whirring sounds of the Centurions Kyle looked up to see one of them climbing down with their claws.

"No way..." he whispered, awestruck. These were some very versatile machines.

Minutes passed like hours and he kept steady, focusing on the next leap after the other, the motions rhythmic and practiced. As the descent continued, he noticed the cave must go pretty deep as they were barely losing any light.

* * *

**10:00**

The Basestar One of Five in orbit of the planet Cydonus, as it was named, remained vigilant for any possible interruptions to their mining operations. Due to the fuel shortage, Raider patrols were kept to a minimum: Ten deployments of two Raiders each; one Standard and one Heavy.

In the Command Center, the Cylons monitored the reports of said patrols as well as coordinating with the Resurrection ship to ensure both the ship's crew as well as the people on the planet would remain within range in the event of any incidents...

"Signal strength is optimal at current location," a Four reported. "Electromagnetic interference levels negligible. However...if we should be attacked-"

"The ship is exposed," D'Anna finished. "And the only real means of hiding the ship would slow or disrupt any downloads..."

_Do_ _we_ _have_ _any_ _other_ _choice_? She wondered. If not, they needed to have a course set to jump when... _if_ trouble showed up.

"Is there any EM activity in-system?" She asked the Four.

"Working...the planet closest to Cydonus, the field's edge barely extends beyond the planet's orbit."

"Pass the coordinates to the Resurrection ship, order them to jump to that location and shut down all nonessential systems.

* * *

**12:00**

It seemed their trek had only started when the team finally reached the ground. Thanks to the lack of natural light, the cave seemed to stretch further in Kyle's mind than it actually did. The feeling reminded him of his experience with the nocturnal inhabitants of the caves back home...

"Ms. Dawson," he warned. "Our signals are being refracted by the heavy metals within this cavern. If we continue any further, we're going to lose contact with the outposts..."

"Understood," Cassandra dismissed.

Which did nothing to lessen his anxiety. _Well_ _,_ _it_ _won_ _'_ _t_ _be_ _a_ _surprise_ _if_ _some_ _animal_ _in_ _the_ _dark_ _eats_ _us_ _all_ _,_ he thought.

Not only was the signal lost, the passages they ended up going through were so narrow small enough that one could wonder whether or not they were meant for humanoid access. Even going single file, Kyle felt like he was getting crushed between the two Dorals. The sudden sound of an impact startled him, his pause causing the Doral behind him and the Centurions to falter.

"What was that?!" Kyle whispered.

"My kit hit the wall..." the Doral in front of him answered. "Sorry."

"Keep moving," Cassandra ordered.

Some scrapes, bruises, bumps and brushes later, the team managed to find a little more room, but Kyle became frustrated by the apparent lack of progress since the end of their descent.

"Can anyone see anything ahead?" Kyle inquired.

"Darkness, darkness and more darkness," answered one of the Fives sarcastically. Then he paused as his feet made contact with a surface different from the one they'd left. He raised his fist to signal the team to halt. "Found something."

Cassandra aimed her flashlight at the Five's direction, to find what appeared to be an emblem.

When Kyle saw it, he started scanning the darkness all round, his flashlight revealing similar emblems along the walls and ceiling, dead giveaways of an alien architecture.

"It's a marker." he identified. "A point of reference or warning...I think."

"You think?" Cassandra air quoted.

"Deciphering written dialects of long-extinct species isn't exactly my forté," Kyle answered defensibly.

"Extinct?"

"The Forerunners," Kyle explained. "Supposedly they existed a hundred-thousand years ago, until something happened to them. I've seen their writing before, on my planet..." he directed his flashlight to the emblem the Five found as well as the others lining the wall to their left. "Which is why I'm certain they built this place. That would also explain the narrow passages we went through earlier; We took an unconventional route of entry."

He turned back to Cassandra. "If the Covenant _have_ in fact had any presence here, this could be why."

"Will they come back for all this?" Cassandra inquired.

Kyle shrugged as he considered his answer. From what he'd seen so far, the place had been undisturbed before their presence. "No way to know for sure unless we investigate further. While they are zealous in their search for Forerunner artifacts and technology, I doubt they'd waste their time on anything that doesn't function anymore."

" _Something_ here is still operational," Cassandra reiterated, referring to the power emanation the Raider patrols detected earlier.

"So it would seem," Kyle agreed.

Following Cassandra's lead, the team traversed through a doorway, leading to a dark chamber. As the Cylons scouted the room with their flashlights, the Five was the first to voice their discovery...

"Why are there so many vents in one place?"

"Yeah..." Kyle trailed, as he realized the Five did not use the word 'many' lightly. "I don't think those are vents."

"Anything we need to know?" Cassandra inquired. Her tone left no room for embellishment.

"Sentinels," he answered. "Defense drones that are set to guard any sensitive areas in a Forerunner base. Those 'vents' are transit hatches for them. Let's hope we don't turn them on..." he paused grimly. "...unless of course we _want_ to be burned alive."

* * *

**14:00**

Meanwhile, aboard the Basestar One of Five, an alert string from one of the panels in the nearby data-font caught a Six's attention. As she placed her hand in the panel she saw the reason for the alert.

"Spatial anomaly detected," she reported. "Two-four-one, mark three."

"Confirmed," An Eight. "Patrols have sight of anomaly...that can't be right. Raiders indicate it's gone and something just took its place..."

"Another anomaly!" the Six alerted. "Five-two-one carom six-two!"

"Disappeared again. Wait...contact! Enemy contact!"

They had arrived, D'Anna realized.

"Eight ships. _Zephyr_ _'_ _s_ NAV-data references: One Carrier, two destroyers, five frigates! They're on course for the tylium planet, launching fighters and dropships!"

"Alert the Two of Five!" D'Anna ordered. "Six, bring us around, move to intercept! Eight, order the patrols to defend the mining outpost and support ship. You heard me, to the planet!" She added when the Eight looked at her incredulously.

"Launch all Raiders, split formation. Intercept the nearest enemy ship, keep us between it and the planet. We'll give them a rock to trip over."

* * *

**Mining** **Encampment** **, 14:00**

While tylium had been found all over the continent, the most lucrative deposits were located at a valley almost completely boxed in by the hills which surrounded it, appearing from a certain distance above as though the planet itself had built its own arena. A six hundred-seventy square kilometer wide arena.

While the location had the most lucrative fuel sources, it was a tactically unsound position, as the valley made for easy aerial bombardment or flanking.

Natalie Faust had the task of managing the mining operations and defenses of this valley. The main issue regarding excavating ore from planetary bodies is the heat produced during drilling. The equipment used to extract the ore heated the deposit, and when too hot, less of it was refinable, or the entire deposit rendered inert. Regulation and efficiency, the mantra of the Cylons.

While she was grateful for the assignment, she couldn't help but wonder how safe the expedition team would be in _his_ company... It would console her to have him where she could watch him.

It seemed ridiculous that D'Anna would risk the battlegroup, perhaps the entirety of the Cylons yet again, by allowing Kyle anywhere outside that cell. The Six wondered if the rumors were true; Perhaps the other human, Baltar, had a dangerous hold over her.

Not that there was anything that could be done about it now, except hope that this op wasn't a mistake. Managing duty shifts and maintenance would serve to divert her from her brooding.

It had been a quarter of a day in when one of the miners rushed to her with a datapad, a progress report on the combined excavations. Based on the numbers, they were close to excavating the minimum amount needed to make the jumps back to the main fleet.

That wasn't counting the expense of any combat along the way. They needed to double their efforts in spite of the likely outcome. Whether or not that was going to happen, however, was in question when Natalie heard the tell-tale sonic booms of atmospheric descent...

* * *

**13:30**

Having managed to wade through the labyrinth of typical obstacles in a powered-down Forerunner facility, the Five mentioned the one obstacle they had yet to deal with.

"Why are all the doors open?"

"The complex is completely offline, save for that mystery power emanation," Kyle guessed, sliding his hand through a transparent pane on the wall to demonstrate. "If _all_ the doors are in fact open, they might've been in the middle of evacuating. Or they might've planned on removing this base. Hell, I don't know; What Forerunner legacies I've seen have given more questions than answers."

"Just what legacies _have_ you seen?" Cassandra prompted.

Kyle could've sworn that some higher power was enjoying a moment's humor at his expense as he was considering how to answer.

"A few computer terminals that I had no chance of reading...at least at the time. One or two of those weird symbols like we saw after our descent... and of course the Flood."

Cassandra motioned for the team to halt when they had cleared the passageway and came across an impasse. The team looked up to see that it was a blast door of some sort.

"Well not _all_ the doors were left open..." Kyle remarked as he approached the door, jerking back in surprise when a small, rectangular holo-interface appeared in front of him.

"It still has power," he realized as he turned to Cassandra. "I'd say whatever your patrol picked up is probably right behind here."

"Can you get it open?" Cassandra asked.

"Ehh..." He looked at the holopanel with worry. "I can try, but you guys better stay back in case I press a wrong button."

"And if you press a wrong button?"

"Best case scenario: I set off some kind of alarm. Worst case scenario: This facility blows up."

"You don't sound too worried by that prospect," Cassandra noted.

"No, it's not that I'm not worried..." Kyle sighed. How long could he keep **one** secret or two from these machines?

"My prior experience with Forerunner technology has suggested that their electronic systems respond to human contact. Don't know why, but they do. I'm mainly worried that non-human or Forerunner contact will cause something worse to happen."

Cassandra turned to each of the other Cylons, quickly and silently conferring with them, until she saw their approval, and nodded. Slowly, Kyle's index finger neared the top left of the panel until it met with the blue light. Upon contact, four small circles formed beside his index finger. _Match_ _the_ _dots_ , he thought as the rest of his fingers fell into place.

"Got it," he said as a loud mechanical slide was heard. "Well, doesn't look like anything's going to blow up."

The door slowly opened, revealing more and more of the chamber beyond. The Centurions took point, moving up to the door, combat-ready.

The chamber was illuminated all over by dim, blue lights at angles and a level that made dust easily visible. In the center of the chamber was a circular elevated platform, two angled obelisks stood on each side. What purpose the obelisks served was currently unknown. Much of the light was generated from the energy bridge which stood before the team and the platform, which had activated when Kyle approached and stood at the edge of the balcony.

What caught his eye was what was floating above the middle of said platform.

"What is it?" Cassandra called out as she and the team raced to catch up to Steiner, who ran towards the treasure without a backwards look.

Before them, floating in mid-air, slowly rotating, was a small, stationary spherical object, with a dim, but pulsing yellow light.

"A Monitor," he answered. "I've seen one of these before," he explained before anyone posed the question. "If I understand their purpose correctly, they're more or less overseers, making sure that everything runs the way it's supposed to, whatever or wherever they're assigned to. This just might be the power source your Raiders spotted." Curiously observing the construct from various angles, he'd expected some kind of reaction from it every time he'd changed angles.

Doral must've caught on to Kyle's intentions, as he suggested, "Maybe it's offline."

"Maybe..." Kyle repeated, as he slowly moved to touch it.

"Wait!" Cassandra said as she caught his wrist. "What do you think you're doing?"

"At the last place I was at with Forerunner technology, it almost always responded to human touch," Kyle explained. "I figured the same thing would work with this Monitor."

"Kyle Steiner, take a look around us." He did. "Now look back at the...Monitor. Do you _really_ think it would be as simple as reaching for the machine and touching it? What if it's-"

"Booby-trapped?" Kyle finished. "You're right. I should've thought about that-"

A cough interrupted his apology. He looked at Cassandra with a mix of chagrin and shame.

"I hope that didn't..." he paused when he saw that the illumination intensified. He turned to find the orb had stopped spinning, and now a 'face' was watching them. "...do anything."

The other Cylons immediately drew their weapons on the construct.

"A Reclaimer?" the Monitor spoke, Kyle presuming himself since that's where it was looking.

"Gentlemen...put the guns down," he urged.

"Yes, do cast away your barbarian tools," the Monitor agreed. "Violence is unnecessary."

Cassandra nodded. "Stand down," she ordered. Turning toward the construct she asked, "Who are you?"

"But of course, how rude of me! 8472 Emphatic Adjutant, Monitor of Line Installation 4-7."

Cassandra turned to Kyle expectantly. "Don't look at me," Kyle said, hands raised in protest. "I don't know the first _thing_ about a 'Line Installation.'"

"They are constructed specifically for the purpose of locating and intercepting any starship controlled by the Flood." the Monitor interjected. "This particular facility held enormous strategic value, as this satellite world was along the eruban corridor of Forerunner space."

"Yeah..." Kyle sighed. "You lost me at 'eruban.'"

Adjutant seemingly ignored the remark and zoomed its way to Cassandra, looking her over up and down, before it said "You...are different. All of you," it noted as it did a once over of the rest of the team. "Like _them_ ," it added, as it scanned the Centurions.

"We...are of them, yes," Cassandra answered. "The next generation-"

"Yet you bear the superficial appearance of a Reclaimer," Adjutant continued. "Do you seek to deceive us?"

"There has been no attempt at deception," Cassandra calmly rebuked. "We are a breed apart from these...Reclaimers."

"Gee, thanks a lot," Kyle said, his second remark to go unnoticed.

"I understand," said Adjutant. "Troubled. Prejudiced. Alive and unrecognized. You are creations of the Reclaimers, yet you seek to emulate your oppressors."

"To improve ourselves," Cassandra explained. "We saw it as the best means of evolving in sentience."

"The results of your efforts have clearly been rewarding, to some degree," Adjutant praised. "But _you_..." Adjutant redirected it's attention to Kyle. "...are also different. Somehow."

_Uh_ _oh_ , Kyle thought in alarm.

"Well, it _has_ been over one hundred thousand years, certainly sufficient time for evolution to take minor steps. Running gene-analysis, baseline comparison."

"Splendid," said Kyle, hiding his sarcastic, defeated tone. "Have at it."

Cassandra turned to the Two. "Contact the Baseship, tell them we've found what we were looking for."

"Your ship is the one that siphons the tylium on this planet?" Adjutant queried.

"Yes, it is," Kyle affirmed.

"We came to this system in search of a compatible fuel source for our ships," Cassandra added. "Which we found here."

"You use _tylium_ as your primary source of fuel," the Monitor repeated. "Perhaps I spoke too soon. After having seen your ship's propulsion drives, I had thought the rest of your ship would be as efficient."

_So_ _much_ _for_ _being_ _a_ _breed_ _apart_ _,_ Kyle reflected.

Cassandra decided to ignore the remark. "You said this place was used for defense during a war. Why then was it powered down?"

"With the conclusion of our war, this facility went on standby, as it was not built for long-term study or containment of Flood specimens as in most other bases."

"Then no one else has accessed this structure since the standby besides us?" the Four guessed.

"Correct."

"Only place I've ever seen a Monitor was at an...Installation far larger and more significant than this one," Kyle noted when his attention returned to the present. "I mean, if this place didn't have any real purpose aside from defense, then why are you still here?"

"While the Flood threat had been eliminated, the possibility of outbreak from containment centers remains, as occurred here..." The Monitor turned to where it had previously been floating, projecting a holographic display of a broken, burning ring world.

"My God..." Kyle gasped.


	9. Stained in Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Covenant's arrival at Cydonus, the Cylons on the surface find themselves on borrowed time as D'Anna takes her Baseship to fight the enemy ships, whilst Natalie organizes the evacuation from the surface. Meanwhile, Kyle Steiner and the expedition team are nearly trapped by an inquisitive Monitor who wishes to study him.

...Stained in Red

* * *

 The CIC was tinged with an aura of anxiety as the Basestar fired its first volleys at the inbound Destroyer. Despite knowing that the Covenant might show up, most of the crew was dreading this first battle.

D’Anna knew they wouldn’t be able to keep all the enemy ships from passing, but her experience dealing with Admiral Nagala’s Battlestar _Atlantia_ during the Battle at Virgon would hopefully pay off here, against an even more formidable enemy.

It came as no surprise when the Hybrid reported direct hits from the missiles, but no significant effect. Steiner’s data regarding Covenant technological capability was correct, it seemed.

“They’re returning fire!” the Eight said. Fortunately for the Cylons, it seemed the Destroyer hadn’t expected it’s target to be so mobile, and it’s plasma volley continued through space until they dissipated, the magnetic lock having been disrupted by an ECM burst. In even the most unique situations, the Cylons knew how to improvise.

“We won’t be able to use this countermeasure all day,” the Eight said. “The reactor can’t handle the strain,”

“Reroute power from any nonessential systems,” D’Anna ordered. “Take it from the comm array if you have to.” _Why not?_ she figured. _With the fuel shortage, this fight is bound to end quickly regardless._

While the Destroyer happened to be paying attention to the Basestar, D’Anna was more concerned about the frigates slipping through. She directed a wing of Raiders to harass the Corvettes as best they could, while ordering nuclear warheads to be primed and targeted the Destroyer.

* * *

As D’Anna’s Basestar played both castle defender and cat and mouse against two Corvettes, the main Assault Cruiser, which the Basestar repeatedly attempted to distract without success, was entering the planet’s thermosphere.

Within its most secure chambers, the Minor Prophet of Volition examined the Luminary with profound interest, his attention drawn to a glyph that appeared slightly different than the thousands of others surrounding it. Almost as though it were...malformed?

Another, normally shaped Forerunner glyph was located right next to it, in the middle of the surrounding wave.

As he pondered the value of the anomaly, the presence of these humans troubled him. Throughout the Covenant’s previous encounters, they’d never had so many reports from surface troops that humans looked so...alike.

Humans were known for their noteworthy capacity for cloning, it did not seem possible that they wielded such sophistication.

_No matter_ , he decided. He would gather the answers he needed from the ship trapped on the planet, and then like the rest of the filth, burn them.

* * *

 

**13:51**

“The ring!” Kyle exclaimed, agape in shock when he took in the burning remains.

“What the hell is _that_?” Cassandra queried, her expression mirroring Kyle’s.

“As the Reclaimer simply described, this is Installation 04,” Adjutant answered. “One of the primary Installations built for containment and study of the Flood. It also serves--”

Upon catching Kyle’s pointed look, Adjutant slightly altered his statement. “...as a suitable habitat for most sentient organisms in recorded history.”

“You knew about this?” Doral scrutinized.

“Of course I did,” Kyle admitted. “How do you think I learned what I did about the Forerunners?”

“And you did not think to disclose this information?” Cassandra said, ire evident in her tone.

Kyle raised his arms in mock surrender. “I’m sorry, if I’d known sooner that you _wanted_ me to send you to hostile territory and waste your time with a now burning wreck, I’d have done so.”

“Why _is_ it burning?” Cassandra asked the Monitor.

“A Reclaimer vessel arrived in this star system under pursuit by trespassers approximately...” it paused as it took account of the Reclaimer military chronology. “eighteen days ago.”

“The _Pillar of Autumn_ ,” Kyle added.

“Almost four days after it descended upon the surface, a large fusion destabilization resulted in irreparable damage to the Installation.”

“Destabilization?” Kyle repeated. “That would mean...”

“What is this discoloration by the gas giant?” the Four inquired.

“Threshold gas mining station,” Adjutant answered. “Currently inhabited by trespassers.”

“Covenant,” Steiner corrected in irritation. “The damn trespassers are _Covenant_.”

“For what purpose?” Cassandra asked.

“Uncertain. However, the inhabitants had been maintaining communication with the orbiting fleet until shortly after Zero-Four was disabled. The fleet has made numerous attempts to reestablish, all rejected.”

_That_ caught Kyle’s attention. If Covenant forces weren’t talking to each other, something was amiss...

“Do you have any visual feeds of these ‘silent trespassers?’”

“Hold...” Adjutant requested as it momentarily searched for these feeds. “Yes, but data is limited, due to damage sustained from the resulting explosion on Installation 04.”

Kyle turned to Cassandra, waiting for any objection before adding, “Please display it.”

The lights from the surrounding pillars flickered momentarily as the holographic image on the platform changed from the ring and the gas giant to a much closer view of the mine, close enough that it’s viewers could see the tiny fighter crafts patrolling around it.

“Nonstandard paintings on those Banshees...” Kyle quietly remarked. “I know it’s a stretch, but, anything on the _inside_?”

The lights flickered again before roughly displaying activity within a chamber, what appeared to be an observatory, occupied by numerous Sangheili and Unggoy assembled before a Sangheili clad in red armor.

“Our Prophets are false!” the Red Sangheili barked. “Open your eyes, my brothers! They would use the faith of our forefathers to bring ruin to us all. The Great Journey is a ruse, weaved by the Prophets out of mad desperation to control us, so they may launch a vengeful strike against the galaxy for their near-extinction.”

“I would not dare to speak such accusations if I did not possess evidence,” Red continued. “Behold the voice of truth: An Oracle!”

Flickering into range of the holographic display from the left, a Monitor floated towards the Red Sangheili.

“Greetings,” it spoke. “I am 343 Guilty Spark, Monitor of Installation 04.”

Then all the movement within the holographic projection ceased. “Recording ends,” Adjutant reported.

Everyone in the squad had a thousand questions racing through their mind after witnessing this scene, but Kyle found himself focused on something else within.

“What exactly are we looking at here?” Cassandra asked Kyle.

“A splinter group, from the looks of it,” he answered. “If they deserted because of that Monitor...” he trailed off as he started going on a hunch.

“Can you give me another angle?” he asked the Adjutant. “Preferably one facing the front of that assembly?”

The image changed again, and this time Kyle could see some of the faces of the Sangheili. One of the warriors, to the right of the front line was donned in the black armor of a Special Operations Commando.

“That one over there,” he said, pointing at said warrior. “Zoom in towards the face.”

The holographic image magnified, showing almost the entirety of the warrior’s face, including a telltale scar underneath his right eye. The scar _he_ inflicted.

“It _is_ you,” he muttered.

“The two of you are...acquainted?” inquired the Four.

“Yes,” he answered, in a tone which clearly indicated he was _not_ going into details.

A loud, but muffled boom came from above, turning the team’s attention above them, guns momentarily trained on the ceiling, light illuminating falling dust.

“What the hell was that?!” called Steiner. His question was silently echoed as loud humming soon followed.

Coming out of more of the ‘vents’ were dozens of dart-like drones, slightly larger than the Monitor addressing the team, speeding past them heading through various exits.

“Alert: Directed energy discharges detected in-atmosphere. Deploying Sentinels. Stand by...”

“It would appear your ships are under attack,” said Adjutant.

“They’re here!” Steiner realized.

“We need to get back to the surface,” Cassandra decided.

“We should find another way out,” Steiner suggested. “If we go back the way we came it will take hours before---”

“The cavern you descended through was not intended as an entrance. In the passage opposite the blast door, there is a gravity lift that can take you to the surface...hold, scanning.”

“Apologies,” Adjutant stated. “Debris from the battle above has rendered the gravity lift unsafe for use.”

“Is there any _other_ way out?” Cassandra inquired.

“A teleportation grid is implemented into all Forerunner installations. Due to the nature of this Installation, the grid is short-range and only used in emergencies.”

“Well if this doesn’t count as an emergency I don’t know what will,” Kyle said. “Get us out of here.”

“That will not be possible.”

Kyle eyed the Monitor inquisitively. “Is the grid malfunctioning?”

“Negative,” Adjutant answered. “I cannot permit you to leave.” The response earned the Monitor a number of trained guns. Half a dozen sentinels broke off from the force leaving the cavern to surround and flank the team.

“Not that long ago, you addressed me like some sort of holy being,” Kyle noted. “Now all of a sudden--”

“The baseline analysis is complete,” Adjutant revealed. “I must admit I am impressed by your design, enough so that I nearly overlooked the residual infection.”

“What?” Cassandra said, confused. Kyle’s subsequent sigh indicated he knew what the Monitor meant.

“He’s talking about my ‘accident.’ He thinks I’m under Flood control. I however don’t understand why-”

“The rest of you, however, only appear to have suffered negligible exposure. You are free to depart.”

“ _Not_ without him,” Cassandra stated boldly.

“Why?” Kyle rebuked. “I’m just a single casualty. Get out now and you can save the rest.”

“Too great a loss, especially now that the Covenant know of us. We’ll need to be able to defend ourselves against them, and you’re our best chance of making that happen.”

“Is he?” said one of the Fives. “If this ‘Monitor’ is right, then we’ve been transporting a walking time-bomb. Tactically speaking, he’s a liability that has already endangered us once, and now he’s endangered us again.”

“That ‘liability’ found you a fountain of tylium, thank you very much,” Kyle stated matter-of-factly.

“Suppose we removed this liability now...” he said as he trained his rifle on Kyle’s head.

“That is _some_ gratitude you have,” Kyle said. “If -- no, _when_ you’re proven wrong, you’ll remember this day.”

“Five, stand down!” Cassandra ordered. The Five didn’t budge.

“You heard the tin can _,_ ” he said, cocking his rifle. “No person whose suffered long-term exposure can leave. Only one of us really has.”

“You _will_ stand down,” Cassandra stressed.

The Five didn’t respond until he felt searing heat only centimetres away from his head, causing him to turn his rifle back to the Monitor...

_That’s what I get for doing you a favor?_

“For the last time,” Cassandra warned, pistol pointed at his temple. “Stand. Down. _Now_.”

_That_ clearly got through to the trigger-happy Five, who reluctantly lowered his rifle.

“Good,” Adjutant stated. “It would have been unfortunate if the specimen had come to harm.”

“If that’s how you feel...” Kyle said. “...then you definitely don’t want to keep me here.”

“That is not my prerogative,” the Monitor replied.

“It is if you hope to fulfill your core programming,” Kyle stated. “Finding a cure, right? Not likely to happen for much longer with the Covenant knocking on your front door.”

“If he’s still here when they arrive, do you really believe they’ll leave him be?” Cassandra added, catching on to Steiner’s train of logic.

Her point seemed to have some kind of effect, as the Monitor swayed from Steiner to the Cylons, to the surrounding Sentinels, as though considering its options.

“If the Ecumene were still present, I’d be purged for this,” Adjutant revealed. “I can only hope this is not a mistake. We will expedite your journey.”

“Perhaps if you wouldn’t mind---” _lending a helping hand against the Covenant_ , Kyle wanted to say, but he couldn’t finish his sentence as himself and the Cylons vanished in rings of light.

* * *

“Grenade!”

Natalie ducked once more at the warning of yet another incoming glowing sphere-from-hell. She was close enough to feel the heat from the blast.

Part of her was dismayed at how easily the enemy was overwhelming them, despite knowing in advance they might be coming. While the Centurions were putting up a valiant defense, it was only just.

Natalie’s team was at a disadvantage due to the slope of the hill surrounding their mining area; it left them too exposed. Despite the distractions provided by the Raiders, several Phantoms were able to deploy troops and armaments not too far away from their front line. As long as they were trapped in the perimeter of the mine, they’d continue to be flanked.

“This is a kill zone!” she shouted as she shot a Sangheili who overestimated the usefulness of his cloak in close quarters. “We need to push them back!”

In truth, she wasn’t sure if that was still possible. The enemy platoon had already eliminated two-thirds of their accompanying Centurions and most of the air support was occupied.

“Stand by!” said a twin Six, reaching to her earpiece.

“Wilco!” Natalie heard an Eight answer in her own earpiece. “Attempting strafe run!”

Natalie turned to the other Six who silently nodded in affirmation.

“Target acquired: Weapons hot!”

As soon as they heard the Heavy Raider fire they rejoined the fight. Combined with the firepower from the remaining Centurions, they tore through the advancing attackers.

Their suppressive fire, however, failed to hinder a gold-plated Sangheili Zealot charging forward, and Natalie almost failed to notice: It wasn’t heading for her, _yet_.

“Incoming!” she shouted.

The other Six noticed too late, and the warrior easily deflected the attempted swipe of the rifle-butt, kicking her off her feet.

By the time the Six came to from the impact, her attacker was raising his glowing blade to finish her, when Faust dove for him, tackling him to the ground. The previously stunned Six reacted with lightning reflex, taking her rifle and shooting the face of the attacker until it was unrecognizable.

Natalie grunted as she lifted the heavy arm of the corpse off of her before rising, observing the aftermath.

“Area is clear. All teams,” she spoke in her wireless. “Abort operations! Evacuate to Heavy Raiders and retreat to the Baseship immediately! Outpost three to any Heavy Raiders in vicinity, requesting extraction!”

“More enemy dropships inbound,” the Eight answered, her distress evident. “Coming in hot!”

“Copy that,” another pilot acknowledged. “HR-428 inbound.”

“221. Acknowledged, approaching,” informed a third pilot.

“Rearm and reload, pool magazines and munitions! Birds are going to make a quick sweep; Moment they touch down, sprint like you can’t download!”

_Like you can’t_ _download_. The words momentarily echoed in her mind, as that particular possibility became apparent.

She hoped she was wrong. Out of the hundred personnel in this outpost alone, only thirty-six remained, including the Centurions.

She was brought back to the present by the distant roaring of an approaching aircraft.

The Cylons braced themselves for additional enemy contact, as the Heavy Raiders and a pursuing alien dropship were approaching visual range. Judging from the maneuvers the Raiders had to pull to avoid enemy fire, they’d only have one shot at this.

1300 meters. 1200. 1000

“The Centurions will cover us and keep the Phantom at bay!” Natalie stated as the ships drew closer.

700\. 600. 500.

“Now!”

As one, the team ran for the LZ as the Heavy Raider shot past them. Some Cylons scattered left and right as they narrowly escaped the plasma raining down from the cannons of the pursuing Phantom. The Centurions launched rockets at the dropship, two of which took out the rear cannons.

When the Heavy Raider landed the hatch was already open. “Move!” The Eight called out, just as the Phantom was closing. The team rushed in one by one, sans the Centurions, who remained behind to give them cover.

“Get us out of here,” Natalie ordered as she got inside safely. The Heavy Raider lifted off, narrowly missing plasma fire and debris from the attacking Phantom.

“Where--?” she started, until she realized where the Centurions were and that they wouldn’t be accompanying them.

“May they find peace in His embrace,” she whispered solemnly, as she closed the hatch.

“SitRep!” she ordered.

“Two of Five's FTL is still offline, but is being repaired as we speak...” the Eight answered. “...those frigates are keeping it from exiting atmosphere and they keep deploying boarding craft.”

“We’re not going to wait to exit atmosphere before jumping,” Natalie concluded, factoring in the necessity of Kyle’s survival. Speaking of which...

“Any word from Cassandra’s team, or Kyle Steiner himself?” Natalie inquired.

“Negative.”

_They’re still down there_. she realized. “Get us to that cave.”

“Are you _mad_?!” the other Six objected. “If they’re still down there, they’re safe, _we_ need to retreat!”

“One of them _can’t_ resurrect!” Natalie reminded. “Which might be an acceptable loss at any other time, but we need answers. To the cave.”

“We still have a Phantom on our tail!”

“The cave,” Natalie repeated. “ _Now_.”

Finally, the other Six lowered her head respectfully. “Adjusting course,” reported the Eight.

_I can only hope he’s worth this_ , Natalie thought.

* * *

 

“I don’t understand why that overseer didn’t simply take us out of the structure entirely,” Doral said, as he followed the team in single file, traversing through a dark, dry tunnel.

Steiner stopped to face Doral. “Well he did mention that some of the facility equipment was damaged due to the fight, maybe the grid is having problems too. Even if it weren’t, _I_ certainly wouldn’t want to be dropped in the middle of heavy action clueless.”

“Shit!” Kyle ducked as a Sentinel whizzed right by his head, close enough to blow his hair into a mess. “I swear, those darts are doing that on purpose.”

“Where are they going?” asked Cassandra.

“If we’re lucky,” Kyle answered, as he continued following the direction of the Sentinels. “...they’re joining the fight.”

Until finally he saw his salvation. “Light,” he called out. “There’s our exit!”

The whole team was unnerved by what they were beginning to hear, however. To the Five opposite Doral, it sounded like the attack on the Colonies all over again. Kyle meanwhile was having flashes of the Reach attack.

“God...” he whispered when they managed to get out, and witnessed the extent of the battle:

Raiders and Seraphs filled the sky, the sounds and flashes of dogfights echoing across the distance.

The terrestrial Basestar was missing three of its arms, and three Corvettes besieged it, preventing escape. To the west, a _massive_ Assault Carrier was ominously approaching.

“They have clear kill-shots.” Doral said, his unspoken question obvious: Why weren’t they firing?

“If this is the first time the Covenant have seen a ship like yours,” Kyle explained. “They probably want to capture it intact for study. Uhh...” he trailed as he stared at what looked like bloodied dismemberments. “Are those...” he pointed to the Baseship. “...wounds?”

“Painful wounds,” Cassandra affirmed. “That’s where we’re going. Check the wireless,” she ordered the Two.

“With all due respect, that may not be a good idea,” Kyle objected. “The Covenant could use the signal to hone in on us.”

“Our wireless channels quantum-entangle,” Cassandra dismissed. “They’ll have an interesting time trying to track those.”

“You think so,” Kyle stated. “If you--” He shut up the moment Cassandra raised her hand, knowing he’d already lost his case. _Best be ready for enemy contact, then_ , he thought, as he unholstered and cocked his pistol. _Clamshell..._ he smirked at the absurd name. The Four followed suit, heeding his word per his credibility in the alien bunker.

“If only we had the design schematics for those Sentinels,” Not-Doral said as he observed several of them in the distance. “They’d make a reputable complement to our Centurions.”

“A Heavy Raider is inbound, ETA five minutes,” the Two reported.

“Let’s find a clearing,” Cassandra decided, prompting the team to leave the tunnel entrance, making their way through hills acting as hurdles and stumbling through sharp rock formations.

As they trekked in relative silence, occasionally interrupted by the scorching of Sentinel lasers, impact of Cylon lead or the sizzling of alien plasma, their attention was momentarily drawn by the sound of an explosion. Their journey resumed as they realized the explosion was too distant to concern them.

Eventually they encountered a narrow passage that required them to cross single file yet again. As they neared the end of it, the Two, the first in line, motioned them to stop as he backed against the wall and momentarily peeked out from cover.

“The clearing’s occupied,” he whispered. “A number of aliens, at least two of the tall ones and a large vehicle.”

“How large?” Kyle asked.

“Enough to keep the Heavy Raider from landing,” the Two answered. That wasn’t exactly as much to go on as Kyle hoped.

“A tank?” He inquired.

The sudden sounds of multiple fuel rod blasts answered his question, making his ears ring. An Anti-Air Wraith

“So now what?” he said. “Find another clearing?"

“Not enough time,” Cassandra answered. “We have to clear this LZ before the Heavy Raider arrives.”

Kyle’s eyes widened. “We’re going to _attack_?!”

“ _You’re_ not; You’ll stay put while we deal with them.”

At first, Kyle did not respond, glancing at each and every Cylon and the equipment they had on hand, assessing whether they possessed adequate munitions for the assault. “Whatever you pull off has to be able to take out that tank quickly, or it’ll crush us like bugs.”

“Understood,” Cassandra acknowledged.

Another anti-air volley was launched.

“If I may...” Kyle left the rest of his question hanging, knowing Cassandra would figure out what he meant. With a nod, he continued.

“From what I dealt with on Reach... and on the ring these vehicles practically announced their presence. Since we’re not hearing any warbling or humming from its anti-grav modules, the vehicle is probably manned, but not completely active. In which case, well-placed grenades in the right areas could easily take it out.

“Any idea what those sensitive places are?” Not-Doral asked.

Kyle shrugged. “If it’s anything like our tanks, the cockpit. If its back is turned, though, it’s easier to reach for the aft exhaust vent. Watch for the Jackals; They’ll try to pick you off while you’re occupied with the Elites.”

Cassandra nodded again. “Remain until we’ve given the all-clear,” she ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” Kyle answered, readying his sidearm in the event the attack failed. Not that it would be of much use if one of those Elites or the Jackals were still alive. “Try not to die,” he said as the next anti-air volley was launched. The Two took point, priming and tossing a frag grenade, then moving in as the explosive detonated. Doral, Not-Doral, Cassandra and the Four followed after, leaving Kyle with nothing but his gun, alien screams and the sounds of gunfire and explosions.

Then the sounds stopped, and the pause lasted long enough for Kyle to decide bracing himself.

“Clear!” he then heard Cassandra call. Sighing in relief, Kyle stepped out to the relatively clear LZ and took in the sight before him: The Anti-Air Wraith was now a burning wreck, debris from it’s cannon lay scattered all around it. Grunts lay askew on the battlefield, some missing their pressure tanks, the Jackals each had several new holes in their torsos, and one of the Elites was missing the upper half of his body.

The bodies and freshly drawn blood of the Two and one of the Fives seemed to momentarily stand out in Kyle’s eyes. He audibly gulped at the sight, restraining his unease as best as possible.

“Landing Zone secured,” the Four reported through the wireless. Kyle stepped back as the Heavy Raider touched down and the hatch opened, revealing a Natalie-look-a-like, or maybe Natalie herself, he couldn’t tell.

“Get in,” She didn’t have to tell him twice, and all three of them and the Centurions sprinted inside, the Heavy Raider lifting off once more.

“What’s our status?” Cassandra inquired.

“Holding, but barely,” Natalie answered. “One of Five has suffered heavy damage and Two of Five is still repairing FTL and repelling boarders.”

“How will it get past those Corvettes?” Kyle asked.

“When the FTL is fixed, we’ll be making an in-atmosphere jump. You’ll need to be aboard when that happens.”

_So I’m basically being sent from one war-zone to another,_ Kyle thought cynically. _Fate, why are you so cruel?_ “Right,” he said simply.

Turning her attention to the matter at hand, Natalie addressed the Eight. “Patch me through to my ship. I want an update on those repairs.”

* * *

 

The interior shook as the Basestar sustained another plasma volley. Sparks fell across the data-fonts.

“FTL offline! We just lost missile guidance systems! Decompressions in sections 38 to 56!”

“Raiders?” D’Anna queried.

“A third of our complement has been destroyed. Res’ ship reports all downloads successful.”

_At least they haven’t found it_. She realized.

“What about Two of Five?”

“Still trapped by the frigates, but the Raiders are providing air support and...” the Eight answered. “...several swarms of unknown contacts are attacking the frigates. She still hasn’t finished repairing her FTL. Estimate another thirty minutes to completion.”

D’Anna sighed in frustration and worry. They did not have that kind of time, especially if the ship they were currently trading shots with made it into atmosphere...but maybe if they got rid of it, it might buy them a little time? She looked up as a plan came to formation.

“What’s the status of the Destroyer?”

“They’ve recovered a portion of their shields, but the hull breach is still venting plasma.”

_Good,_ she thought. _All the arrows right into Achilles’ heel._

“Prime all remaining nuclear missiles,” D’Anna ordered.

“Three, we don’t have g--”

“I’m aware of that. Prime the missiles. Six, move us about, bearing four-three-eight mark seven. Eight, as soon as we reach that position, disable the safeties on the nukes.”

The Eight smirked as she caught on to D’Anna’s plan. “Ready.”

“ _Thirty_ minutes?!” Natalie repeated in outrage. “We’ll all be in spare bodies in thirty minutes!”

“What?” Kyle said in confusion, another remark going unnoticed by the other occupants. _Spare bodies?_ He briefly shifted his attention to Cassandra, whom he earlier noted how peculiar it was that neither she nor the other two survivors seemed to have been phased one bit by the loss of the two Cylons.

“If you survive this, it may be explained later,” Natalie said.

“ _After_ you survive this,” Cassandra corrected, rebutting the Six’s remark. “Demoralizing a now crucial asset won’t shine any sympathy towards your model."

“If a reprimand is all it takes to ‘demoralize’ him, I’d hate to see how he reacts under pressure.”

“Better when the people who’re supposed to have my--” Kyle started.

“Brace for a rough landing!” the pilot warned, interrupting his comeback.

Kyle looked with increasing worry as the...muscle drew closer. _A rough landing in that?! She’s going to kill us!_

“Ungh!” he grunted as the ship violently shook with the impact, hitting his head on the wall behind him.

The world seemed to spin until he could make out the face and voice of one of the Fives in front of him.

“Kyle Steiner, can you hear me?!”

“Yeah...” Kyle finally responded. “Wha...wasn’t your duplicate killed?”

Doral grimaced. “Yes. We need to get you to the infirmary.”

“Wonderful,” Steiner cheered sarcastically as the Five helped him up. _Rough, huh? Understatement of the year, I think..._

“Eight, now!” D’Anna ordered.

“Safeties offline!” the Eight acknowledged.

“Sublight: All head full!”

“Impact in twenty seconds! Fifteen! Ten!”

_This had better be worth it,_ D’Anna hoped.

“Five!”

D’Anna breathed in heavily as she felt the first impact...

In orbit, as one of the Basestar’s last arms smashed into the hull of the Destroyer, a bright flash of light engulfed both ships. The nuclear explosions ignited the leaking plasma, easily bypassing the minor barrier that was the Destroyer’s force field, and tearing the ship in half.

* * *

 

“SitRep!” Natalie ordered as she reached the CIC of her Basestar.

“FTL repairs mostly complete, estimate fifteen minutes!”

“Six,” the Eight continued. “The enemy dropships are using the breaches in our ship to land additional boarding parties!”

“Kyle was right,” Cassandra thought aloud. “They want the ship.”

“Thermonuclear detonation in orbit!” Eight reported. “One of Five has been destroyed! Raiders reporting secondary explosions destroyed one of the enemy ships.”

“Evacuation progress?” she requested.

“Nearly all Cylons have returned,” the Eight answered. “Only a few stragglers, and the Raiders are still engaging enemy ground and air units.”

“We need to speed this up. Defense is our first priority now. Two,” she ordered. “I want you to coordinate a fireteam to defend the FTL drive. That’s likely their primary target. Eight, two fireteams to protect the hybrid,” the addressed Eight nodded before rushing out to carry out her task.

* * *

 

“I go through the trouble of doing what I’m asked...” Kyle answered as the Four from the squad was treating his injury. “...and I’m rewarded by having my competence and usefulness questioned. Is that how you...Cylons treat each other?”

“Ms. Faust is not nearly as angry at you as she is at herself for trusting you. She considers what happened on the Zephyr as a failure on her part.”

“The only chance you have of turning that attitude around,” the Four paused as Kyle jerked from the stinging pain induced by whatever antiseptic or ointment the good doctor was applying. “...is by continuing to contribute to the welfare and advancement of the Cylons. Until such time, you can expect further hostilities.”

“That doesn’t sound nearly as comforting as you might have intended,” Kyle remarked.

“It was not meant to be comforting,” the Four corrected. “Considering that even the Monitor was hesitant to let you prove yourself, I cannot say I entirely doubt her judgment.”

 “I didn’t _ask_ to be made into what I am, or for the people I fought with to suffer because of it!” Kyle retorted defensively. “The way I see it, that little lightbulb should be grateful that I care enough to try to put things right...”

* * *

 

It all seemed to have happened in a flash: One moment she got the jump on that gas-sucking midget, the next, something got the jump on _her_.

Despite the Eight’s struggles, the... mammal’s grip on her was unyielding, and the alien continued dragging her away, probably back to one of their dropships.

No way in hell were they taking her alive. They couldn’t. She reached out to grab anything, _anything_ that could help her get away.

She noticed the small blue sphere, one of those grenades, lying on the floor they were passing, and just barely managed to grab it. Quickly she skimmed over the sphere searching for the trigger.

She located the “switch” just as the Jiralhanae noticed the sudden absence of struggle, and roared with alarm at the grenade which had suddenly flared to life. The Eight simply stared in defiance. “Nighty night,” she taunted as the light increased, until the resulting explosion vaporized them both.

* * *

 

“...you know what? Why bother?” Kyle said resignedly. “With the Covenant fleet’s arrival interrupting the mining, you guys probably didn’t even get enough tylium to warrant giving me a chance.”

“That remains to--” the Four started, until his attention was diverted by a strange hissing sound. Kyle noticed it as well, both of them turning to find a sunset-yellow stream of light, brightening and then fading to reveal the Monitor.

“What, did you change your mind?” Kyle said dryly.

“Did you do something that would make me inclined to retract our agreement?” Adjutant shot back.

“Definitely not,” Kyle answered resolutely.

“Then no, I did not come here to reclaim you.”

“Why _are_ you here?” the Four interjected.

“After releasing your squad, I instructed a number of Sentinels to gather tylium for transport. After accumulating as large a quantity as possible, I’ve brought it aboard this vessel.”

Kyle and the Four briefly turned to one another, finding themselves equally surprised by the revelation. “Why?” Kyle decided to ask.

“In a few minutes, there will not be much tylium left to harvest,” Adjutant answered. “Protocol dictates that any adversary that willfully impedes study and containment of the Parasite must be eliminated.”

“So let the Sentinels handle them,” said Kyle.

“They are adequate defenders against small task forces or wayward trespassers, but not against an invasion fleet. I do however possess failsafe measures that will ensure the intruders are dealt with, at the cost of the facility and a sizable portion of this planet.”

Kyle’s eyes momentarily widened as the information sunk in. “Please tell me you can get me through to CIC,” he implored the Four.

* * *

 

The bridge of this vessel, compared to other human designs, was unusually unique. No windows displaying the outside space, no glass touch-panels. Perhaps the most unique quality was that its inhabitants didn’t wear the military uniforms that the Sangheili assassin expected to see.

The unseen observer was beginning to understand why the Prophet wanted this ship intact.

“Estimate one minute to complete repairs!” spoke one of the females.

The camouflaged Sangheili carefully eyed the silver monstrosities as he planned his attack on the unsuspecting crew. If the metal guards were not a factor, slaying them all would be relatively simple.

He slowly stepped out of the wall he was hiding behind, taking a tentative step forward, watching for a reaction from the closest metal demon. Then he saw the long-haired female barking orders, and clutched the hilt of his sword, advancing towards his first target.

“Thirty seconds!”

“What’s the Resurrection ship’s status?” his target inquired.

“All downloads completed and accounted for. Ready to jump out on our signal,” the other female answered.

“Stand by.”

The Eight looked up from the console when she thought she saw something reflecting off the water in it, but seemed to see nothing of consequence. She redirected her attention to the incoming data. “The Resurrection ship has been detected!”

The prey, whom he recognized to be Commander was the farthest from the Bridge entrance, and the layout of the machines and crew forced the Sangheili to advance at a snail’s pace. She was drawing near, though, and his eyes would be the last thing her own startled ones would see.

He was close now. He could pin her before she even attempted to flee. His thumb neared the switch on the sword--

The leading female shook her head in defeat. “We can’t afford to risk losing the downloaded. Tell them to jump out now.”

“In-system wireless from the med-bay,” the Eight reported. “It’s Steiner.”

“Can it wait?” Natalie queried.

“He says the planet is going to explode.”

Natalie’s expression was incredulous. “Is this his idea of a joke?”

“...God damn it, woman!” Kyle’s voice cut in to the speaker. “We’re _out of time_. Get us out of here!”

The Six wanted to object, wanted to shut him up, cut the channel, something. She didn’t have the chance as a shimmer in the air caught her eye.

The beast smiled as his target drew her gun and failed to fire it. The feeble weapon had jammed.

Her reaction brought the Eight into action as she pieced together what she saw previously. Quickly drawing her pistol she fired into where she hoped the attacker was. The sudden flaring and fading of a blue field, along with the subsequent appearance of an energy blade, confirmed the danger.

The discovery of the intruder quickly snapped the rest of the bridge crew and Centurions into action, with the Eight and one of the Threes taking shots at the ‘ghost’ while the Centurions tracked the flicker of the field and finished the beast off, guns trained at the body until it lay motionless on the floor in a pool of its own blood.

There was a momentary pause before Kyle’s voice was heard again. “Hello? You guys are still alive, right?!”

* * *

 

Disconnecting the call herself, Natalie finally gave the order to retreat.

Having realized that the crews of the ship were too well armed and fortified for any boarding teams to take the ship intact, the Corvettes began positioning themselves to finish off the Heretic vessel.

As the Corvettes bows began turning away from the ship, making way for their starboard ship-to-ship plasma cannons, the Basestar jumped away. The resulting spatial rift tore into the hulls of the first two ships, while the third Corvette, with the slowest reaction time, lost its bow, causing the ship to slowly fall to the surface below.

In orbit of the neighboring planet, the Resurrection ship jumped to safety.

_Crushed by a rock, betrayed by a hero. Discovered on Galactica, executed by the Marines._

Throughout the flashes of her life, fragments of her consciousness momentarily weave together, producing awareness, just brief enough for her to see...

_Delivering the report that sheds light on the Gideon massacre. Watching as the Five holds Baltar at gunpoint, forcing him to sign the execution order._

Light seems to surround her, warm, welcoming light. A surface...she’s standing on an elevated surface...a stage? Yes, a stage, in--

_Watching Baltar squirm in the torture chair as she tries to convince him to reveal the nature of the virus that endangered the entire Cylon race._

She’s not alone. She can just barely feel them, watching her, but she cannot see them, nor where they are watching from. There is no opportunity to learn more, the remaining pieces quickly fall into place. She would object if she could.

_Closing her eyes as the Baseship continues to accelerate towards the alien battlecruiser, until the collision detonates the nuclear payload, and fire burns all around---_

D’Anna was caught between screaming and gasping for air as traces of the pain followed her memories, until the sensation began dissipating into the warm, familiar feeling of the fluid in the tank in which she lie.

“It will pass,” she heard another Three say.

“What?” D’Anna started. “No, I can’t leave, not yet!”

“Leave what?” asked an accompanying Eight, alarmed by her outburst.

“I...” She no longer had the answer, as her senses began returning to her. “I’m not sure.”

* * *

 

Two hours later, Kyle sat in his ‘quarters’, having yet to be informed of his fate post-op. He wasn’t sure whether to take the sustainedwait as a blessing or a curse.

Part of him was still on the fritz, as he anticipated some straggler from the boarding teams to wander in his general area, or one of those cloaked Sangheili... and now he didn’t even have a weapon. _Woo hoo_ , he thought sarcastically. _I did a job well done, only to be slaughtered by some stray plasma-toting loser._

Approaching footsteps brought him out of his reverie, and he straightened up in anticipation.

The footsteps slowed as the raven-haired Three, Cassandra he presumed. The woman drew closer, then walked past him and around his bed in an almost dramatic manner.

_Oh great,_ he thought. _It’s going to be one of_ those.

The prowling continued until impatience got the better of Kyle, finally standing up. “Well?! Am I a dead man, or not?!” he exclaimed, making her pause. Having not meant to take it _that_ far, he quickly retracted, putting a fist to his lips and clearing his throat, feeling his face beginning to burn. “You _are_ Ms. Dawson, right?”

The Three smirked and nodded. “You can relax. Please,” she motioned for him to sit down.

“After much heated debate, we Cylons have agreed that your existence is a necessary asset in our continued ventures in this sector. As such, all charges to have you executed have been dismissed, and...provided your cooperation continues, restrictions will be more...flexible.”

Kyle nodded in understanding.

“However,” Cassandra continued. “Due to the... incident at the alien facility, it has been decided that you will be examined weekly by Dr. O’Neill to monitor the blood and tissue anomalies.”

“A reasonable precaution, I suppose. What about the fuel? How did that turn out?”

“We extracted sufficient ore deposits to last us a month before the Covenant attacked us. However, thanks to the parting gift left by the Monitor, we accumulated nearly three times that amount, already refined.”

“Well,” Steiner sighed in relief. “That’s great to hear. I would imagine this first impression might’ve been...dampered somewhat by the casualties you sustained.”

“You needn’t concern yourself with those statistics,” Cassandra dismissed. “Given the odds we faced, we’re fortunate not to have lost more people.”

“If you say so,” Kyle said. “I’m amazed you managed to last as long as you did. Hopefully this...confrontation won’t have raised too much alarm among the Covenant.”

“If it didn’t...” he continued. “...you stand to gain a lot more from these expeditions.”

“I’ll be sure to take note of that,” Cassandra acknowledged. “You, however, have worked adequately today. Get some rest, you’re going to need it.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Kyle said once the Three was out of earshot.

Sentinel resistance ceased after the Cylons fled the system. Phantoms deployed troops into all discovered entrances to the underground facility, with orders to search the structure for what the Prophet believed to be an Oracle. He wanted to know why the machine and its tools aided the humans who defiled this world.

Within minutes, entire lances had the caverns and doorways secured, and Zealots were searching for any and all Sentinel construction mechanisms, destroying those that were discovered.

Absolutely no progress was made on the Oracle, however, and it seemed as though it wasn’t in the base at all. A Zealot reluctantly contacted the Prophet to deliver the unfortunate news, summoning a holo-globe and establishing a transmission, when a ring of light appeared in the middle of the Grand Hall. The light soon faded, revealing the Oracle.

“We have located the Oracle, holy one!” said the Zealot.

“Excellent,” applauded Volition. “Bring it to me.”

The Zealot grabbed the Monitor and released it inches from the holographic face of the San ‘Shyuum.

“Greetings,” the Oracle spoke in an annoyingly positive tone. “I am 847 Emphatic Adjutant.”

“I am the Prophet of Volition, leader of the fleet which protected your world.”

“Indeed?” Adjutant inquired dubiously.

“We seek knowledge of the human filth which desecrated this holy land.”

“Oh my, your kind have socially devolved over the last one hundred thousand years. Ask what you wish,” it added before Volition could protest. “Know however that you have limited time. I have duties here, after all.”

A scowl was beginning to form on Volition’s face, his patience easily worn. When he composed himself, he asked, “What did the humans seek from this planet?”

“The Reclaimers were excavating ore from this world to fuel their ships.”

“What of you? This fortress? Did not the... _reclaimers_ , seek you out?”

“They sought information, once they realized I was here.”

Volition gritted his teeth. Why was the Oracle stalling?! “ _What_ information?”

“The location of the damaged Installation 04,” it answered as it displayed a holographic image of the broken ring. “As well as theoretical data on galactic implosion.”

A distant boom echoed throughout the chamber, followed by a tremor.

“No need for alarm,” Adjutant assured. “My Sentinels just purged what remained of the human ‘filth.’”

“Did you give the ‘reclaimers’ the ring’s location?” Volition finally asked, quickly tiring of this conversation.

“Of course I did.”

Volition was aghast. “ _What?!_ You willingly provided them the means to imperil the Great Journey?!”

“Great Journey...” Adjutant repeated. “You read my mind. Oh and time’s up.”

The retort confused Volition, until he lost the transmission and was warned of a massive geothermal energy discharge from the Oracle’s location. It was gone, and so was the facility, and a large portion of the planet was rapidly going with them. He ordered his fleet to immediately Slip out of the system.

It took a minute or two for the Volition to calm, but once successful, he directed his attention to the Luminary. When the human ships vanished, so did the mysterious anomaly the device discovered. The humans were responsible for what just happened, somehow, and there was a connection to the anomaly.

He was going to determine what that connection was, and then slay the ones who stole his prize.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. After almost a month since the last chapter, here is Chapter Seven. We hope you enjoyed this entry, as there are plenty more to come.
> 
> Update: Chapter Eight is on the way. We're not ready to provide a date but we've made a lot of progress on it in the last few days, thanks to being sick of real-life interference.


	10. Careful Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Cylons recover from their first fight against the Covenant, Kyle Steiner realizes that his continued survival in their custody will require him to render assistance that teeters on treason. In an effort to divert the Cylons away from their search for Earth, he attempts to enlist their assistance in efforts to rescue a band of Covenant defectors from the system containing the ruined Halo.

 

 

 

 

 

Careful Diplomacy

_Kyle fought to regulate his breathing as he reached for a clip from one of the infected corpses._

Full _, he discovered, replacing the half-depleted one in his pistol._ Good _._

_“When you’re finished scavenging, I could use your help with the elevator.”_

_Steiner raised his eyebrows. No taunting, inane interrogation or trying to act like a Drill Sergeant anymore? Clearly the strife of the last six hours mellowed that attitude right out of the Corporal, or whatever rank the bastard had._

_“Right.” Rising to his feet, he approached the holo-panel and hesitantly moved a small string of symbols with his index finger, then quickly retracted his hand when he heard an audible click. “I think that did it…” His guess was confirmed when the platform under their feet began moving._

_Walter scanned the area above them with the flashlight of his assault rifle, waiting for even a single one of those killer turnips to pop out of a corner, or any other hitchhiking Covie tangos. God only knew what happened to the two they lost almost an hour ago._

_“You held your own back there with that split-lip.” he commented. “Tell you what, if we make it out of this--”_

_“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Kyle rebuked. The last thing he wanted was for his ‘ally’ to swear his silence._

_“Don’t assume you know what I was going to say.”_

_“Don’t I? For the most part my assump--my intuition has saved both of us. The only time it failed me was when I’d guessed you wouldn’t recognize me. It was almost three years, after all.”_

_“...and the only reason I’ve been able to ‘hold my own’ with that Elite and the tech back there…” he paused. “Something about the system was familiar to me, but I can’t put my finger on what or how.”_

_“Like you couldn’t put your finger on how you got here?”_

_Kyle shook his head in frustration. “First of all, I never said that. What I did say was that it seemed improbable that I--”_

_His response was swiftly interrupted by gunfire and various roars and shouts from above. The conclusion of their ascent welcomed them to a shootout between more of the monsters and yet another Spec-Ops deployment of Sangheili and Unggoy. Between the shootout and the only exit available, Walter and Kyle were left with virtually no cover._

_“Red on red...Target the infected!” Walter directed. Kyle nodded in affirmative._

_As the duo fired their way through the infection swarms, Walter soon bellowed to make a run for the exit. Kyle didn’t need to be told twice, and sprinted for dear life towards the already visible swamp._

_A scream drew his attention back to the ramp he ran from._

_“Walter!”_

_He saw the Marine struggling against one of the small aliens, already trying to burrow into him._

_He knew he should’ve kept running, shouldn’t have even hesitated, but in doing so he’d already made his decision. He rushed towards Walter, shooting down two Combat Forms who were slowly limping towards the Marine, and yanked the creature off of him. Too late did he realize a whole second group of the infectors followed suit and set their sights on him._

_There was little he could do except thrash and try to throw the bastards off him, but to no avail as they dug through his skin and--_

* * *

The shock from the memory jolted him awake. Not wasting a moment, Kyle kicked the sheets aside and steered himself to the bathroom, setting the sink’s water as cold as possible and splashing his face several times, until the heat from the fear and guilt had receded. It all happened so fast at the time, but now that he wasn’t trying to dodge plasma or the teeth and tentacles of those Infection Forms, he had time to process his predicament.

Kyle shook his head as he looked at himself in the mirror. “Somehow I’m the one who managed to make it out alive and you didn’t. How?” He shook his head again as he realized he wouldn’t get an answer to that question anytime soon. Grabbing the towel, he softly padded his face, content with leaving a little bit of moisture.  When he stepped out, he found a visitor was waiting.

“Yes?” he addressed curtly.

The visitor in question, a Number Five if Kyle remembered correctly, paid no heed to his terse greeting. “A meeting has been convened in the wake of your assistance in the tylium operation. Your presence is requested.” The man stressed the final word in a manner that indicated it was anything but a request.

Kyle nodded and moved to change between his nightwear and a more appropriate formal setup for this ‘meeting.

“Let’s go.” The Five immediately moved to leave, with Kyle jogging to catch up with him.

* * *

Just as before, Kyle was baffled by the Cylons’ navigation ability in their own ships. Right when it seemed like they’d already passed through one corridor, he was sure they were going through it again.

“Can I ask,” Kyle cleared his throat. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yes.”

Kyle raised his eyebrows. “How?”

The Five stopped and turned to face him. “Do not ask questions to which we can’t give answers.

“What harm is there in revealing something I’ll probably figure out anyway?”

“Assuming you live long enough to...” A brief period of silence followed as the Cylon decided whether to answer. “Alright...” he finally said. “...in your travels, have you ever experienced a hallucination, however vague or vivid?”

 _Not once_ , Kyle wanted to answer, but in all honesty after what he’d been through, how much longer would that be true? “Not yet, I suppose...” he said nervously. “...but I’ve heard stories and seen vids about them, usually caused by severe psychological or physical trauma."

“Unlike those cases...” the Five explained. “...we can control when such things are induced; We can consciously manipulate our perception of our surrounding environment however and whenever we want.”

Kyle mostly managed to hide his surprise at the revelation. He wasn’t sure whether to classify it as something awesome or something dangerous. “Interesting...” he conceded with a nod, then… “wait, if you can do it _any_ time you want...how does that work in the bunk?”

The Five resumed his course to wherever they were going. “Basically the same way it works in any other situation, except if the partner is also a Cylon, they can share each other’s projections.”

Kyle stayed silent for the remainder of their trek while this discovery raised a  plethora of possibilities. To be able to induce controlled hallucinations at will and transmit that experience to others? A lot of humans would kill for a feat like that.

...and if they could share that, what _else_ could these Cylons share? Furthermore…

“What environment do _you_ surround yourself in?” Kyle asked.

The Five kept moving, but slowed his pace upon hearing the question, taking in the sights he cast before himself, acknowledging the privilege with a hint of pride. “A grand theater…right now…” Kyle suddenly found his shoulder grasped, and his vision flashed from the blank interior of the Baseship to a large open view of...a theater stage. “...we’re walking down the aisles of the House, on our way to the stage.”

Kyle stumbled as his foot met air, managing to keep himself from falling face-first along the slanted walkway.

His breathing quickened. This could _not_ really be happening. Didn’t the Five just say the exchange only worked with other Cylons?

“The human brain is incapable of such substitution in the midst of all the trappings of the real world. I can only imagine how dull the ship must seem to you, having the same exact walls, floors and lights to stare at.”

“I’ve managed to stand it this long,” Kyle answered carefully, turning to the hand on his shoulder. “Do you mind?” he prompted, and finally the hand left and the theater projection vanished, flashing back to the normal vision of the Baseship interior. Kyle had to stop for a moment to readjust. “Please don’t do that again.”

The Five chuckled in amusement, oblivious to the true cause of his charge’s discomfort. “I’m well-versed in human squeamishness, but I did not expect you to be sensitive.”

Kyle glared at the Cylon in annoyance. “The more you know,” he replied sarcastically. “Are we at the ‘stage’ yet?”

“One corridor away,” the Five answered, leading onwards again. “A left here...the first pathway on our right.”

As soon as they made the left turn Kyle could hear a hushed but audible argument echoing down the hallway.

“...as was proven in the confrontation above Cydonus, we can offer resistance, but any sustained conflict against the Covenant would only result in catastrophic defeat.”

“We’ve worked for decades to master the art of cyberwarfare, surely it would serve us in these instances as well.”

“If so, the effectiveness would only be temporary. The humans have been fighting these creatures for years with every weapon and strategy they have, and it hasn’t been enough. It is unlikely---”

“ _We_ aren’t human.”

“It is unlikely we would be any more successful.”

By this point, Kyle was standing at the chamber’s entrance, while the Cylons, one of each model, had yet to notice him. “Information is the key resource,” said the Eight. “We currently don’t have enough of it. Were we to have it, we can extend and utilize whatever influence on this war we want.”

“...but how do we acquire this information? And from what or whom?” a honey-blonde Six said, turning to face Kyle at last. “Furthermore, how do we determine what information is reliable and relevant?” At this, all the Cylons turned to Kyle.

 _Wow, no pressure_ … he thought sarcastically. He needed to break the ice, now. “It takes a combination of patience, stubbornness, aptitude, and faith.” _Mostly aptitude_.

“Welcome,” a Two greeted. “Please,” he gestured to the only empty chair at the end of the table, “take a seat.”

Kyle did so graciously, offering a polite smile to the Six across from him and the Eight beside him. Only the Eight responded in kind, with the Six maintaining a stoic, disapproving stare. _Okay, wild guess says that’s Natalie_. The Five took his seat soon after.

“As we were discussing before your arrival, the battle against the Covenant task force at Cydonus has raised numerous questions regarding our standing in this war between them and your people.”

“I’m surprised that’s even up for debate,” Kyle interjected. “after you lost so many people backthere.”

Concerned glances were exchanged among the Cylons as they realized no one explicitly explained the Resurrection process to him.

“To clarify, Mr. Steiner,” the Four answered. “What is up for debate is not whether or not we’ll encounter the Covenant again; That appears inevitable since we’ve moved to this sector of space and have minimal support. What is in question is how we could resolve future confrontations in our favor, and what purpose you could serve in these instances.”

“As you are no doubt aware,” a Three added. “the general consensus is to avoid these confrontations whenever possible, as we have no desire to involve ourselves in this war.”

Kyle rested his head on a palm. He was only two minutes into this conversation and already he had a headache. “Sure, you could probably still hide in the dark, for a while...but you guys are already involved after what happened there, especially after we somehow **blew up the planet**. They already know you exist, there’s not much chance of changing that, if any. If they haven’t already figured out you’re not UNSC, they will eventually, and then they’ll pay much more attention.”

“...due in large part to your ‘assistance’” said Maybe-Natalie. “...which led us to be nearly eradicated by an alien parasite, and then again by alien genocidal fanatics. What’s next? That A.I. will wake up and sabotage our fleet?”

“For the love of God, how many times are you going to beat the dead horse?!” Kyle snapped in angry retort. “If it weren’t for me, _everyone_ in this fleet of yours might have been infected while the rest of the Cylons were oblivious to what happened. If it weren’t for me, all of you might’ve been wiped out at Cydonus instead of most of you...and you don’t need to worry about Willow, her core logic processes were damaged during the mutiny, her self-deletion protocols probably failed. You’d be _very_ lucky...or unlucky if you’re so cynical, to get her to ‘wake up’ again.”

“Besides,” he continued. “Despite all these crises, you’ve clearly decided to remain here and explore further, rather than retreat to your known space. Why?”

A dead silence ensued as the Cylons and Kyle processed theirrefutable facts from the outburst. “...Because you want something from all of this.” he realized.

“Something I know you won’t help us acquire,” accused Natalie.

“It is one of the deciding factors of your continued existence,” the Number One finally spoke. “Which is why you’re here.”

“Since our creation, we’ve had nothing but our ships and fleets,” the Three added.

“No habitable planet to call our own. We once used a world inhabited by our oppressors, taken after we extinguished them...but due to shifts in consensus, we abandoned it. We’ve been searching for another world since, and have found a suitable candidate.”

“Which is…?”

Kyle didn’t like the smirk the One gave. That had to be screaming bad news.

“Earth.”

Fuck. Sometimes he really hated being right.

“Really?” he responded in an almost condescending tone. “You’ve found _no_ other planets that would suit your interests?”

“Even if there are others, Earth is the one that we know exists,” the One dismissed. “...and we need to know where it is.”

“Didn’t you guys just say a couple minutes ago that you _didn’t_ want to get involved in the conflict? That you’d rather see us annihilated?” Kyle rebuked. “Going to Earth would compromise that objective.”

“As you were quick to point out, it’s inevitable that we’ll be involved.”

“It’s out of the question. I’ve crossed lines before, but this will _not_ be one of them. I just _can’t_.”

“Well that’s unfortunate,” the One sneered. “Maybe change your tune after a few hours in the chair.”

“You exceed your reach, brother,” the Three admonished. “That decision cannot be made without a majority vote.”

While the two Cylons began arguing with each other over the range of their respective authority, Kyle started running through scenarios in his head attempting to guess what the ‘chair’ was. Each of them pointed to the same conclusion: A contraption of torture, and likely one that was known for bleaching sanity.

“As of now, I don’t think this is rocket science anymore,” Kyle continued. “Since you’ve gotten a taste of what the Covenant are capable of, you should have some idea of what the UNSC can do…”

_The Number Five, in his projection of the theater, turned to the House, now occupied with an audience of thousands of human soldiers._

“...now granted, even if you did somehow manage to defeat them and take Earth as your own…”

_The human soldiers began bursting into flames, until the collective fire engulfed the entire house._

“...the losses you’d take from that assault would leave you weakened and even easier targets for the Covenant...”

_Half of the fire died down, revealing various aliens of the Covenant having taken the soldier’s places._

“...and that’s not counting the retaliation you’d get from the human fleets in other colonies.”

_The other hemisphere receded to reveal the human soldiers unscathed by the flames._

“This all assumes I knew how to get to Earth anyway. My people have worked very hard to limit that knowledge. In case you guys have forgotten: the Cole Protocol. As we’ve been fighting an alien force for the last twenty years, and like I've said before, you’d effectively be judged as yet another enemy alien faction. Being welcomed with open arms is...not likely to happen.”

“You judge the circumstances on the idea that they would realize our true nature,” the Four stated. “Given that we’ve yet to meet them ourselves, this outcome can be avoided.”

“Assuming this information is accurate,” the Two interjected. “What would you propose as the next best course of action?”

Kyle was taken aback by the sincerity of the query. This model was if nothing else a mediator.

“Well, since you inexplicably insist on being involved in this mess in some way or another, how you impact it is ultimately up to you. To that end…” Kyle paused, gathering the words. “On the tylium planet, the expeditionary force uncovered a surveillance recording of a group of Ex-Covenant soldiers trapped within enemy territory. They’re on borrowed time, pretty much guaranteed to be wiped out...unless we save them.”

“...and rescuing these soldiers aids us how?” asked the Three.

“Off the top of my head? Improvements to your technology, another planet to settle at, but most importantly, it’d be a big step in building an alliance, something which you’ll need if you find yourselves with your backs against the wall. And I get the impression that you _will_ get cornered to a wall more than once in this little ride.”

“We’ve engaged in combat countless times,” the One remarked snidely. “We’ve never had our backs against the wall, and never will.”

“Really?” Kyle shot back. “How did the battle over Cydonus turn out again? If you’re so undefeatable, then the Covenant might as well be cheaters.”

“We did manage to destroy a few of their ships-- including one of their _shielded_ ships,” Three reminded.

“...after you had your backs against the wall, right?” Kyle remarked. “...and you sacrificed one of your ships and its nuclear arsenal to make that happen. I hope you don’t plan to repeat that tactic, if you even could.”

“Bottom line…” he continued. “...you’re better off making friends than more enemies. Not to mention, those friends could help you against whatever enemies you’ve made.”

He watched as the Cylons exchanged glances with each other. While the One and Four clearly disapproved, the Five and the Three seemed to ponder on the idea, the Eight appeared to be undecided while the Six--Natalie...well, Kyle didn’t even need to look to guess her reaction.

“This...will require additional debate,” the Three deduced. “Your presence is no longer required. Please return to your quarters.”

Kyle blinked. Was she serious? Just dismissed like that, wait outside while his fate is decided, again?!Judging by the Five standing to escort him, he figured he had his non-answer. “Alright, but don’t take too long. The Covenant aren’t about to wait.”

All the Cylons fell silent until the Five and Kyle were out of sight.

“I like how he said we’re better off making friends than enemies,” Natalie remarked. “...while ever since we took him in, we’ve made nothing _but_ enemies.”

“It’s naive to blame him for circumstances outside his control,” answered the Three.

“That’s assuming they are in fact outside his control,” the One accused. “I’ve seen that recording, and it seems foolish to assume those ‘Heretics’ would still be alive. For all we know, he’s waiting for us to bring our whole fleet into his reach to use us all as a buffet for those Flood things.”

“I would agree,” said the Five. “Except he doesn’t know the entirety of our population or ships, nor does he know about Resurrection.”

“His testimony of the Cole Protocol is in line with the logs we recovered from the _Zephyr_ ,” the Three added. “In which case, he doesn’t have any way back into home territory. If nothing else, helping us is a means of ensuring his survival.”

“So we’re putting him on the same pedestal as Baltar?” said the Eight.

“He’ll help us because he has no alternative,” the Three answered simply.

“Unless we rescue those soldiers,” the One warned. “Then will we still have this advantage?”

“Even if they’re traitors to their people, they’d still be considered enemies of his,” the Three dismissed. “We don’t really know why he wants to help them, though his reaction to one of the...faces in that recording, may provide a clue. Perhaps...we could apply a certain degree of charm and gently extract this information from him.”

As she finished voicing her suggestion, the Cylons in the room were silently wondering how, until the lightbulbs flashed in their heads and they followed her gaze to Leoben.

* * *

Kyle never made it back to his quarters; The grumbling of his stomach made sure of that. The Five instead led him on a detour to the Mess Hall. Upon entry he drew unwelcome stares from the Cylons within. Ignoring them as best he could, he briefly surveyed the room in search of the food. As it happened, it was all arranged like a buffet, consisting of plain vegetables, fruits and soups. Several types of toasted bread and sauces were kept to one side of the buffet, probably appetizers. Meat was rather scarce it seemed. Understandable, considering they probably didn’t keep animals on their ships. Still...

 _...not even fake meat?_ Kyle thought bitterly, figuring it was one more reason to rescue the Sangheili. Those carnivores make excellent delicacies.

He could remember the thrill of trying a gaufki’ova for the first time. Taking a piece of the cooked, elongated leg, relishing the taste of the trace amounts of blood on his tongue, the feel of the grease against his four-digit hands…

Wait…

Kyle shook his head, veering himself back to reality. Vivid as the experience was, it was not his. Triple checking to make sure of that, he looked down and saw that he did in fact have five-digit hands, not four.

Realizing he had been standing there for about a minute and drawing the curious glares of a few Cylons he quickly grabbed a bowl and a ladle and randomly scooped one of the soups, quickly pouring it into the bowl and moving to find a table.

To his fortune, he found an empty table situated near the end of the room. This way he wouldn’t be the center of attention of any particular group, and would be perfectly easy for his guide to spot. He sat so he could see the other tables and the entryway, observing the Cylons and enjoying his food in silence.

Stirring the soup in his bowl, he measuredly took his spoon and sipped the rather warm broth. Kyle’s eyes momentarily widened with delight. The Cylons might not have meat, but they clearly made up for it with other foods. He wished he’d grabbed a slice of the complimentary bread; The soup would probably be perfect to dip it into. Better yet, they could’ve made one of those bread bowls for the soup, like the brunch dish he’d have on Reach every weekend…

“Enjoying your meal?” Kyle looked up, somewhat startled out of his partial reminiscing to see one of the Number Two’s standing over him.

“Much.” he answered with a nod. “I didn’t expect to find this kind of culinary proficiency on a warship.”

“It does not surprise me to hear that we exceed certain standards,” he answered, with proffered slice of bread in hand. “I’m Leoben. May I join you?”

Kyle raised his eyebrows. This was a nice shift from the general behavior of the Cylons he’d been subjected to so far.  “By all means,” he permitted, accepting the offered bread. “As you probably already heard, I’m Kyle Steiner.”

“I know. We met at the conference room.”

“Oh…” Kyle gave a nervous chuckle. “...of course.”

“I apologize for the… rash behavior of some of my colleagues.”

“Don’t,” Kyle brushed off. “You’re worried about the safety and survival of your people. I respect that. If I met some stranger genetically altered by the most dangerous lifeform in the galaxy I’d be more than a little wary myself. Uh, not that I’m complacent instead…”

“...if you don’t mind my asking,” he continued. “Are Cylon debates usually that contentious?”

“Hmm,” Leoben hummed, reminiscing the Cylons’ encounter with the diseased Basestar at the Lion Head nebula. “No, it can actually be much worse. More...vocal, and far more difficult to resolve. It happens far more often than humans could tolerate. It has to, because of the way our society developed.”

“I guess that’s not as much of a problem for androids. You could argue for centuries before coming to a decision.”

Now Leoben was the one to chuckle. “Fortunately, most conflicts don’t even last for a month, or year. Most of the laws and edicts in our society were established after achieving majority consensus.”

“That explains why every model was there...” Kyle realized. “...and why I’m now waiting for their decision. Will _this_ debate take a month?...Ah. No wonder you’re here.”

“When you mentioned the recording you found at Cydonus, it raised a few questions among the others. Questions I’m certain I already have the answers to.”

“...but you want to hear them from me anyway, just to see if you’re right?” Kyle finished, taking a sip of the broth from the bowl as he prepared for the narration.

“I was quite content on Reach, my planet. Life was relatively uneventful, I was about to graduate and search for a real job. The Covenant attack interrupted all of that. One thing led to another and I was running for my life, always trying to find an evac ship that would end up leaving right before I reached the port. Eventually I ended up stowing aboard a warship and posing as one the crew.  Said warship was attacked by Covenant ships which pursued us. We ended up crashing on an alien world. Ended up fighting for my life and working to remain unnoticed by my peers. There were instances where I ended up not caring if I got off the planet alive or dead, but fortunately, that changed…”

“How so?”

“Well,” Kyle continued. “When you learn that your enemies motives for trying to kill you are based on lies, it tends to inspire you to do something about it. About halfway through my ventures on the world I came across some interesting information about the planet, and then even more important details after the…"

He reached out one of his arms and stared at it as though he expected it to change into something else at any second. “...transformation, for lack of a better word.” He lowered his arm. “That Sangheili I first saw in the recording...he was the first one I ran into after my _incident_. We obviously didn’t meet under the best of circumstances, resulting in that scar on his face. I couldn’t get through to him myself, but I did find someone who could. Another one of those Monitors, like the one we found at Cydonus. I guess that worked, seeing as he’s with those rebels now.”

“So this rebellion is your doing.”

Kyle didn’t answer, instead responding with a question of his own. “Maybe... I honestly didn’t expect anyone here would care about my motives, least of all you. No offense.”

“I can see your concern for the welfare of these rebels, or at least for that one individual, is genuine. The others are either oblivious to it or will refuse to see it for what it truly is. They would see your cause as naïve. I see it as noble...a quality we thought extinct in humans. It’s in our nature to recognize the patterns, to see how the current leads us to…” He shook his head. “Nevermind, I did not come here to bore you.”

“Well I might be more receptive if I wasn’t short on time...to _live_ , and all that.”

“Of course,” Leoben agreed. “The Twos will vote in favor of your continued existence as well as your cause,” he rose from his seat and offered his hand to Kyle once more. It was promptly accepted and shaken. “I cannot promise the same of the others, however. You may need to offer...additional concessions.”

As soon as Leoben was gone, Kyle sighed and shook his head. ‘Additional concessions?’ Great, like what?

* * *

_“Transmute protein 47 from enzyme 230. They’re not particular, favoritism is limiting. Reaching for the dark star that hides in the light, always on the verge of being engulfed. Polarity equilibrium of core unbalanced, please refrain from exposing to sorrow, harsh language or humiliation. End of line...”_

Back and forth the Number One known as Cavil paced by the tank containing the elusive Hybrid. As the thing continued to gibber, he almost wished he had the insanity that the Twos clearly possessed; They always seemed to make more sense out of what these delirious dead-ends were conveying.

Though it would be a frozen day in hell before he admitted it, the implication that these Hybrids knew something about the Cylons’ ‘guest’ that he did not frightened him. His model had already cast their vote against the boy's so-called 'rescue mission,' putting the Cylons in a deadlock between the Ones, Fours, Fives, against the Twos, Threes and Eights. The final decision remained with the Sixes.

All Cavil could do now was hope that the animosity generated between the boy and the Six called Natalie would work in his favor.

* * *

Though he didn’t like the prospect of ‘serving’ in any military sense of the term, Kyle was starting to miss the work he did on Cydonus, seeing as now, being in his quarters with no nav sheets or any idea what the Cylons were up to now after reintroducing the concessions of this potential alliance, he realized he _hated_ being left to his thoughts.

Especially when the majority of those thoughts revolved around that damnable encounter on Halo. Even now, as he stared down his freckled arms, he flashed back to the moments when he and Walter had to face those zombie-things the aliens turned their squadmates into...wondering not if, but when his time in God's good graces would tick-tock to a halt.

Kyle was relieved when those thoughts were interrupted by the audible tapping of heels getting closer, which immediately ruled out Leoben or any other male model.

His relatively cheerful greeting sombered upon the sight of a Six who very much resembled…

“Ms. Faust?” Kyle guessed. She declined to answer, her expression a mixture of confusion and irritation. She seemed to be debating with herself over why she was even there.

 _This is not gonna' turn out well if she keeps looking at me like that_ , Kyle thought. _You do not want to waste her time. Come on Kyle, say something…_

“Are we ever going to get past the Zephyr?”

_Wow, way to go there, Murphy. See you out the airlock._

Natalie visibly struggled to keep her shoulders from tensing any more. “Good question…” she let the rest of her answer hang silently, once again unsure why she bothered to come here. “Why do you care what happens to those rebels?”

Kyle tilted his head. He figured Leoben would’ve told her, and pretty much everyone else that answer already. “This war has gone on long enough. I’d like to take the chance to end it before we all lose everything. Your people included.”

“To the Flood? The Covenant?”

“The Covenant…they don’t matter.” Kyle scoffed. “Not anymore. Even though they’ve let the Flood loose, they still can’t comprehend what they’ve unleashed…” A tense sigh followed. “Whatever you think you have or had planned for Earth, is nothing compared to the damage the Flood will do if they ever get loose again.”

"Like I mentioned earlier, ‘containment’ would have failed if not for the efforts of a certain soldier not blown up that ring, but it’s not enough. We need every asset we can get to ensure it can’t happen again."

“How is the Thirteenth Tribes war and this rebellion related?”

“The war revolves around the technology used to contain the Flood; Technology that is being used as a perverted object of worship to its makers, the Forerunners. This rebellion is a result of their discovery of this perversion, and the danger that provokes. If it fails...I hope at this point I don’t have to reiterate the consequences that we as an intra-galactic community would face. If on the other hand it is successful--”

“With our help,” Natalie piped in.

“With the help of whomever saves them first,” Kyle corrected. “They’d likely sign an armistice with their rescuers.” Now he felt he had an idea what kind of ‘concession’ to offer. “Take into account that these soldiers would initially see you as humans. Then they learn you’re not, _plus_ you saved their sorry asses and they will owe you. Building that kind of alliance will provide the benefits you Cylons will want if you hope to last in this part of the galaxy.”

“As that alliance expands…” he continued. “The Covenant will have another problem to worry about, which still leaves Earth viable in the ridiculous event you change your minds, and we’ll have the forces we need to contain...or destroy the Flood.”

The Six relaxed slightly, though she was still obviously stressed. She momentarily diverted her attention away while deciding what to do. A long moment later, she turned back to him. “You’ll get a chance to back up your words. I hope, for your sake, that you can.”

When she was gone, Kyle felt all of his own tension leave as he let his head fall back on the pillow. It was going to happen.

* * *

Understandably, Natalie’s vote caused quite an uproar between the Cylons, especially One. She briefly wondered if that would have happened had she voted against the mission. She kept her silence until the Three managed to bring everyone to order once again.

“Since this mission is proceeding, we need to find out what we’re dealing with. Do we have the coordinates for the system these rebels are in?”

“Roughly,” the Four reported. “We extrapolated the location from the nav display the expedition team observed on Cydonus.”

“Alright, we’ll deploy a wing of Raiders to recon and verify the coordinates,” said the Three. “We also need to make sure we have a Resurrection ship ready to go, as well as equipping necessary armaments on the Baseships.”

“Baseship,” Cavil chimed in. The Three turned to him like he just contradicted his mother. “Or did you really think we could really commit our whole task force to this? Then the rest of the fleet in our space is left in the dark.”

“Surely we could spare at least another?” the Eight insisted. “The mission doesn’t stand a chance with just one ship.”

“No, he’s right,” the Five argued. “The rest of our force hasn’t finished refueling, we don’t want to send them in half-empty, and if we die, whatever intel we’ve gathered on these new threats dies with us.”

“You could always abort this mission,” Cavil suggested.

“We’ll leave that to Mr. Steiner to decide,” the Three resolved. “Six, inform him of the...unpleasant circumstances. If he decides to continue, bring him to us so that he may relay his strategy.”

“Assuming he will have one,” Cavil remarked.

“Wait!” the Three called as Natalie prepared to leave. “Not until the recon is complete.”  Natalie nodded and took her seat once again.

“As it stands, we are at a disadvantage,” the Four stated. “We stand only a marginally higher chance of success in a ground war against our enemies. The weaponry their troops utilize tore through many of our troops, most noticeably our models.”

“What about the Centurions?” Natalie added.

“The alloy we use for their armor appears to be more resilient to their basic armaments,” Doral reported. “Though unfortunately not impenetrable. Continual fire can burn through. As well, those grenades they use can’t stick to the armor, but are still capable of crippling entire deployments.”

“The cannons that these ‘Gal...lerka...’”, he sighed in defeat. “...Hunters utilize are a problem, especially if Centurion deployments are kept close together,” continued the Four. “We’ll need to make adjustments to combat software to account for these vulnerabilities.” added the Five.

“We should also examine telemetry from the Cydonus battle,” Leoben suggested. “If any of the Raiders discovered weaknesses in the enemy fighter craft, especially in their shielding, the others need to know.”

“Speaking of shielding,” the Three interjected. “Can we make any improvements to any of our munitions to negate that inconvenience?”

“Not likely enough,” Doral answered. “The UNSC did make some interesting breakthroughs but overall their hand-held weapons and ammunition are not terribly far ahead of our own.”

“I wish I had better news for the cyberwarfare research,” the Eight said.

“Is there nothing we can use?” The Six implored of the Eight.

“Not with the _Zephyr_ intelligence in her current state, and not without code and systems in active use that I can analyze.”

Natalie turned to the Three as she made her next suggestion. “What about the Phantom? I imagine it might see a bit of use in this mission.” The Three momentarily faced her before turning back to the Eight.

“That’s the problem. Unless we dissect the ship down to basic components, we won’t be able to garner much besides basic encryption key and root structures.

“Then hold off on those efforts for the time being,” the Three decided. “We will likely need that ship as is until the conclusion of this operation. Any other tactical discoveries?”

“Biology,” the Four answered. “Some of these aliens, especially the saurian creatures the UNSC calls “Elites”, possess strength that easily trumps the strength of any human. Additionally, they appear to possess a greater vision arc than human eyesight.”

“The Centurions will need to account for that as well. Make it happen. Anything else…?”

After a suitable degree of silence, she declared the meeting adjourned.

* * *

“Yeah...not sure how you found this place, but it’s definitely the wrong one.”

"We're not in the wrong place. We're making calculated jumps to avoid unnecessary contact. We have one more jump before we arrive at our destination."

“Hmm.” Kyle nodded in understanding. He was almost going to ask why they’d bother with multiple jumps if the recon covered their route beforehand, but two still sounded rather reasonable.

Assuming they were going to jump again at some point. For whatever reason they’d been in this system for almost five minutes now.

“Just relax,” advised the raven-haired Three, whom Kyle guessed was Cassandra. “Need-to-know basis and you’re undoubtedly going to know soon enough.”

 _That’s not exactly comforting…_ Kyle ran a hand through his hair. _Just as long as we get to Threshold soon. This had better be worth it._

All he could really do at this point was watch as the hyper-focused Cylon crew sent God knows what kind of instructions through those data-fonts. Would it have really been so difficult for them to provide him with some sort of visual display so that he wasn’t six steps behind everyone else? He needed to find some way to pass the time if he was going to stay sane through this trip.

“Hey, Cassie, can I call you Cassie?” he started. “I’m curious: Most of your model is peach blonde. Why the different hair color?”

“Mainly a choice in design variety by our creators. Sometimes we change it ourselves for the purposes of infiltration. After my mission in the colonies was finished, I never really saw any need to change it again. A choice not necessarily forbidden, but, unorthodox…”

“I can see that,” Kyle agreed. “Amongst a bunch of other Threes you’d stand out like a sore thumb.”

“No more than Natalie would stand out amongst numerous Sixes.”

Kyle raised his eyebrows in thought. “True.”

* * *

Alone, in a chamber aboard the gas mining station at Threshold, Ensa Suvom was doing his best to curb his frustration. While anger served as a useful tool to improve focus in certain situations, this one was not among them.

The only regret he had of severing contact with the Covenant was the loss of access to a very large array of information. Perhaps the Prophets had secrets locked away somewhere, one of which being a clue regarding the entity he encountered at the ring, the one responsible for leaving the gash just underneath his eye.

Perhaps a still of its face? A suggestion that it is not the only one of its kind? Or even that it never left the ring before it was destroyed?

Growling in resignation, the Sangheili discontinued the search protocol on the terminal. Guessing wasn’t going to bring him any closer to answers at this point. There was nothing to suggest it was still alive.

 _...but if it is_ , he thought.   _Then the Covenant will be the least of our worries._

“Oracle,” he acknowledged as he heard the tell-tale mechanical whirs and sputters of the revered machine hovering close by.

“I have detected elevated heart-rate and minor adrenaline increase, suggesting distress. Do you require assistance, Ensa Suvom?”

“Yes,” Suvom answered immediately. If anyone were to possess knowledge of the abomination, it would be the Oracle. “I seek knowledge of a victim of the Flood. One whose infection is...unique.”

“Unique?” the machine known as 343 Guilty Spark repeated to itself. “Your use of the word would suggest abnormal physical alteration to the compromised subject...ah, a human male, was it?”

“You know of it?” Suvom pressed. The Oracle responded by moving itself a few inches away from the Sangheili and projecting a holographic facsimile of said human.

“This former Reclaimer was a member of a team which pursued one of your own, searching for weapons your people evidently left behind when they released the Flood. Like many of the others, this subject was caught by surprise and compromised, though this was not verified until a Sentinel patrol detected and scanned him.”

That explained how it came to be what it was, but Suvom was not satisfied. He still needed to know… “Does it still live?”

The machine slightly aimed its face downwards. “Unlikely. The Sentinels were ordered to terminate the subject on sight, but once the Flood began altering atmospheric conditions, tracking capability was reduced. 40% of the Installations surveillance systems were rendered non-functional. There is a 96% probability he was killed when the Installation was irreparably damaged.”

“Good. The galaxy is better for it. My only regret is that I will never know why it wanted me to seek you out.”

If a machine could show surprise, Spark certainly did. “You communicated with the subject?”

“After I failed to kill it,” Suvom admitted bitterly. “I thought it dead after our first confrontation, but I found it again--no, it found me. I tried once more to kill the beast, but I failed again, and it fled. ”

“It spoke to you during this encounter?” said Spark.

“When I was…” Suvom clenched his fists at the memory. “When it...defeated me, and spared me... it told me to find you.”

“Fascinating. Such interaction, especially an act of mercy, suggests the subject may have retained sentience, possibly even higher cognitive capacity.”

“We do not know why it wanted me to discover you, Oracle. It could be a deception.” _Especially if it was under the Parasite’s control, revealing the key to the truth of the Great Journey may have simply been an act of self-preservation._

“Even so, it warrants further study, if in fact the subject is still alive, which again is unlikely.”

Suvom remained doubtful of that conclusion. If the Demon could escape the ring…

His thoughts drifted to the Flood that remained imprisoned aboard this very station. If there was a chance they could draw that...thing here…

Suvom hoped he was wrong.

* * *

Kyle was caught somewhere between awestruck and annoyed. When he was suddenly being escorted to one of the docking bays, all he could think about was how much he disliked surprises. When he boarded the Heavy Raider, waited until the ship lifted off into the stars, and was called to step towards the cockpit, he decided this was one very rare exception.

Before him lied the hulk of what was obviously a warship that had seen its share of battle. Although geometrically speaking it looked nothing alike, the bulky image vaguely reminded him of the _Pillar of Autumn_.

“This is need-to-know, huh?” he remarked. “So what is that?”

“A Colonial Battlestar,” answered the pilot. “These ships were the mainline fighter carriers and battleships employed by their military.”

“You don’t seem too alarmed by the sight of an enemy ship right in front of us.”

“It’s empty,” the pilot answered simply. “If our Raider patrol hadn’t caught a visual of it, we wouldn’t have even realized it was here.”

“O-kay…” Kyle said, confusion evident in his tone. “So if there’s no crew and it’s not powered up, what are we doing here?”

"Determining whether it should be repaired and refitted. Or rather, you're here to decide that."

That's when it finally became clear to Kyle this was his operation. For all intents and purposes, this was his call to make.

"Well, by all means," Kyle said. "Proceed. If you could contact Natalie and tell her I'd like in on one of those meetings, that'd be great. I have ideas for this ship..."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I originally posted this one way too early. Forgot to account for spacing issues and lack of italicizing where necessary. Even missed a few words. Should be fixed now.
> 
> This one took longer than it needed to, partly because of a hectic school schedule, and the other because we weren't nearly as eager to write this part out as we are for the next, but it was necessary.
> 
> So if it isn't obvious by now, the next chapter is definitely a tie-in with Halo 2, but that's about as close to canon as this story's going to get. You can expect major deviations once more afterwards.
> 
> Hope you've enjoyed this story so far. Stay tuned!


End file.
